


The One Where It's Regency England

by thestanceyg



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Assault, Attempted Sexual Assault, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Forced Marriage, I did zero research, but please be safe and don't read if you need to avoid such things, that doesn't get far
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2019-09-30 15:52:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 74,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17226935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestanceyg/pseuds/thestanceyg
Summary: A continuation of the Grad School Prompt"Betrothed." Darcy is fleeing from an aggressive suitor at a ball when she is caught with Spencer (who was trying to help hide her). Now they are set to be married. Not everyone is happy with this turn of events, and there is more at play than just matrimony.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I did exactly no research for this. Please do not tell me about what I got wrong. I don't actually care. This is purely for fun.
> 
> Chapter one starts with the grad school prompt, but there is more in the chapter than the prompt.

Miss Lewis slipped from the ballroom and out into the cool night air of the patio. She had a headache. Her mother was insistent that she not end the season without an engagement, but all the men she had been introduced to were unsuitable for one reason or another. Well, unsuitable to her. Her mother thought all of them fine options. For not the first time, Darcy wished her dear friend Jane were here, but her father, Erik, had taken her on a trip to study the stars, and she wasn’t expected back for another month at least. By then, Darcy would probably have been forced to accept someone’s hand and be truly miserable.

She stepped out toward the garden, further away from the light and sound of the ball. Jane couldn’t prevent Darcy’s future, but it would be nice to not have to face it alone. She wandered over toward the roses, planning to stroll around them once before she was truly missed and had to head back in.

“Miss Lewis!” a voice called out. The words were slurred a tiny bit, but she knew who they belonged to: Mr. Sitwell. He had been more persistent as of late, and she was sure that the alcohol had made him more bold. She hurried further into the shadows, hoping that he wouldn’t be able to hear her skirts nor see her in the dark. Luck did not appear to be on her side. She could hear his footsteps getting closer and his voice calling for her more loudly. If he got much louder, he would bring out half the ball, and then she would be neatly trapped. 

If she hadn’t been so worried about the possibility of being stuck with Jasper, of all men, she might have noticed the bench that was in her way. But, as her head was turned to look behind her, she did not, and collided with the edge if it, causing her to tumble to the ground in a heap of skirts.

“Are you okay Miss?” asked the man she hadn’t seen sitting there. He was kneeling next to her.

“I’m already going to look a fright,” she sighed. “No need for your trousers to be ruined as well.”

“I don’t care about my trousers,” he declared, offering her a hand. “I care that you seem to be running from someone in the night and might be injured.”

“Miss Lewis!” Sitwell called. His voice was coming quite near now.

Darcy looked down. Her dress was torn and dirty. “Nothing is injured but my pride Mr….?”

“Reid,” he answered. “Mr. Spencer Reid.”

“Darcy Lewis,” she said, taking his hand to help her stand. “Pleased to meet you. I think it might be best if I hide now. Mr. Sitwell can be very determined.”

“Of course,” he said, looking around. “If you maybe were to hide behind that fountain, I’ll try to send him a different way.”

“Thank you Mr. Reid,” she said with a bow of her head before scurrying off.

She had just made it behind the large base of the fountain when she heard Jasper arrive. “Have you seen a woman out here?” he demanded.

“Why would a woman be out here?” Mr. Reid asked, his voice full of earnestness. “If she was, I assume that she would be with someone and not wish to be discovered.”

“She’s supposed to be with me,” Mr. Sitwell said. His voice was angry. 

“Well, if that’s the case, I’m sure she’s wherever you planned to meet. As it stands, though. There’s no woman here. I did hear some rustling that way though. Perhaps she is over there?”

Sitwell didn’t respond, but Darcy could hear footsteps. She stayed hidden, not wanting to come out too early and still be caught. Now that Jasper seemed to have been put off, she thought about what little she knew of her savior. She knew he had his own house in town. She knew that he preferred his books to dancing, and that was the main reason her mother hadn’t thought it worthwhile to inform Darcy of any of the other particulars of the man. Not that she would have been listening anyway, but still. It would have been nice to know a bit more about the man she was indebted to. Her thoughts were interrupted when Mr. Reid appeared on the side of the fountain. “He is gone now, miss.”

“Thank you!” she cried, well and truly relieved to be rid of the man. She couldn’t help but throw her arms around Mr. Reid in her joy. “He’s been overly attentive and I feared being forced into marriage with him if we were found together out here.”

“Glad I could be of service,” he said. “Might I know something of the lady I just saved?” he asked. His voice was almost shy. 

“Oh! Of course!” she said, dropping into a small curtsey. “I am Miss Darcy Lewis. Unattached, much to the consternation of my mother.”

“And you father?”

“Sadly deceased.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he said, and unlike the others who saw it as a gateway to an easier engagement, he seemed to be well and truly sorry.

“And you, sir?” she asked. “It seems you did not rate my mother’s list of potential husbands, so I find myself rather uninformed.”

She was pleased when he laughed. It was warm and natural and drew her in. Most other men would have been offended by her words. She found she rather liked that he was not.

“Mr. Spencer Reid, at your service, miss,” he said with a small bow. “And most mothers find me a third tier choice at best, it seems. I believe they take issue with my preference for books over balls.”

“So you were out here reading? In the dark?”

“The moon is full,” he argued.

“It’s so bad for your eyes!” she chided. “Why not hide in a library instead?”

“My friends always find me there,” he said, and she enjoyed the note of disdain in his voice at being caught so often. “I thought I’d give moonlight a try this time.”

“Well, I’m very glad you did, sir, for it has saved me.”

“I wish that all my interrupted readings were for such heroic reasons. It might make me a more suitable match.”

She giggled at this.

“Darcy?!” he mother yelled.

Her eyes grew wide in fear as she looked up at Mr. Reid. “Oh no,” she said, her heart plummeting. “I’m so sorry. I’m sure we can get out of it, I’m sure—”

“Oh you are ruined!” her mother cried. “Look at the state of you! And with a  _ man _ ,” she added dramatically. Normally Darcy would have rolled her eyes, but she saw now that there was a tiny crowd gathered. There was no way to avoid the scandal.

“She is not ruined, madam,” Mr. Reid said. “She was being pursued by a deviant while she was on her way to meet with me,” he said. The crowd gasped. “I had planned on this being private for just us, darling,” he said looking to her. She knew the crowd wouldn’t be able to see the way he looked at her, his eyes begging to know he was doing the right thing to help avoid a larger scandal. She gave a small nod. “Miss Lewis,” he asked, getting down on one knee and causing the assembled group to gasp again. Several turned away from a moment that should have been private. “I love you. Will you marry me?”

“Of course she will,” her mother screeched. 

“Yes,” she said, offering him her hand to help him stand. “I hope you can be happy with this,” she said, her voice full of remorse. “I am sorry to have done this to you.”

“And I would be sorry if you had been shackled to that sad excuse for a man,” he said.

“I know that I have done well in this. You have sheltered me twice now. Once from Mr. Sitwell, and now for a larger scandal. How am I ever to prove to you that I shall not give you cause to regret this?”

“You care at all,” he said simply. “You didn’t ask after my fortune, but instead spoke to me of books over balls. And here, now, your worried for me more than yourself, I believe.  I think the two of us will get on well, once we know one another.”

“I look forward to it, sir,” she said. 

If she had eyes for anything else but her newly betrothed, she would have seen that no one there doubted the little charade they had pulled off, for there appeared already to be deep affection for one another in their eyes.

“Yes, yes,” her mother said, bustling over to her and grabbing her arm. “It’s all done now, but we absolutely must set you to rights before going inside and making the announcement.” She shot a glare over at Darcy’s new fiance. “What were you two doing out here to end up like this?” she scolded, her hands trying to brush away the clearly ground in dirt from her tumble.

“Mama,” Darcy said, her hands on top of her mothers, trying to still them. “There’s no fixing this. And it was Mr. Sitwell’s fault. I had come out into the garden and he was drunk. I was afraid he was looking to take advantage of me.” She said the last part in a coarse whisper, her voice threatening to be choked off by tears when she considered how close he had been to succeeding. She took a breath to try and steady herself. “He was also quite loud. I was certain he would bring the entire ball out and then I would be forced to marry him, so I ran, and tripped when doing so.” She looked over at Mr. Reid, whose face was difficult to read. “Mr. Reid did not harm me. He would never. I would have never said yes, even if it caused a scandal, if I thought he would.”

Her mother frowned at this little speech. “Mr. Sitwell would have made a fine husband. There was no need to run from him,” he mother said. “But you’ve always gotten what you’ve wanted, haven’t you? Why would tonight be any different?” Her hands went to Darcy’s hair, trying to fix the damage that Darcy hadn’t even considered must have been done to it. She wanted to cry at the thought of how frightful she must have looked to Mr. Reid, who had still, somehow, miraculously, proposed and saved her. He could have said he caught her with Mr. Sitwell and had demanded to bring her back to her mother. Everyone would have believed that. Society always believed the man. “You will tell me later how the two of you met and have seen enough of each other to schedule clandestine meetings in the dark,” her mother said sternly. “But for now you are going to head back into that ballroom with your head held high and you will pretend you dress is not a tattered mess, and you will accept all the congratulations due to you.” She turned to look at Mr. Reid. “I will give you two a minute alone. I expect you to have her back in the ballroom, no worse than she already is, within five minutes. Are we clear, Lord?”

“Completely, ma’am,” he said coolly. Darcy was startled by the ice hanging off his words. Was this who he truly was? Had she jumped from the pan into the fire?

The crowd had mostly dispersed after she had said yes, and her mother left with one of her friends who had been waiting. Darcy braced herself and turned to her soon to be husband. His eyes were still on her mother, so she took a moment to really look at the man. He was taller than her by a good several inches. His clothes were not the latest fashion, but there was a fashion to them nonetheless. It was still a bit dark to see the colors and patterns in the fabric, but she could tell that the cut of the clothes was exquisite. Though there was currently a hard set to his jaw, his face was not unkind. Now that she was looking, he looked younger than she was expecting. He was probably only a year or two older than her. He turned to look at her, and she held her breath.

His face softened as he looked at her. “I will be happy to get you out of her house,” he said. His voice was gentle. “To say Mr. Sitwell would make a good husband….” He trailed off, shaking his head. “And she seemed to think that you should have let him touch you…” he shivered. “I am happy to provide you protection.”

She jutted out her chin a bit. “I am very used to protecting myself from those that wish to take advantage,” she said. “Perhaps you know Mr. Ward? I do believe he had to absent himself from Lord Coulson’s ball last month in the middle of it because he became acquainted with my knee.”

Mr. Reid chuckled. “I heard about that at the club,” he admitted. “Though, I do not believe anyone said it had been you.” He took a breath. “I did not mean to imply that you could not fend for yourself. I have no doubt you would have been able to get away from Jasper on your own. I am just happy to be able to help.”

She smiled at him. He sounded sincere. “We should start heading in,” she said. “But we also need to determine what our courtship story is.”

“Courtship story?” he asked, offering her his arm. 

She gingerly took his arm. “You said that I had been coming out here to meet with you, and implied a connection between us that predates this evening. People will want to know how we met; when we met. We should be telling the same story.”

She felt his step falter for a moment. “I have a confession,” he said quietly. She held herself stiffly at those words. “My friends were not the only ones to ever find me in the library,” he said. She wondered where this was leading. “Miss Lewis, I know that you have hidden from more than one overly ambitious suitor in the library because I have seen you in there before. Most memorably, at the Twelfth Night ball when you successfully hid behind a chair from Mr. Rollins.” He gave a small embarrassed cough. “I think that makes for a suitable meeting, no?”

Darcy couldn’t help the mirthful laughter that bubbled out of her. “I should truly be ashamed of my behavior, but I can’t help it. The fact that you saw me do something so ridiculous and still proposed!”

“I found it resourceful, not ridiculous,” he argued. “And I imagine I would have said as much to you, had I not worried I would frighten you by letting you know I was there.”

“I think we have a perfect meeting. That was nearly six weeks ago. I assume we have been meeting in libraries since then?”

“Of course,” he said easily. “I might have been smitten, but I really do not love balls, and do love books a great deal.”

She laughed at this, creating a lovely picture when they entered the ballroom together. Her, laughing, looking up at Mr. Reid, and him looking down at her with what onlookers would call an indulgent smile. They would also notice the disarray of her dress; the dirt caked on in spots also, but the first image would be of two people who were only seeing each other and not the rest of the room.

They made their way over to her mother who was standing with Sir Pierce who had thrown the ball. He looked at the two of them with calculating eyes that made Darcy want to squirm, but she stayed steady. “I hear there is an announcement to make?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir Pierce,” Mr. Reid said. “Tonight Miss Lewis has made me very happy by consenting to be my wife.”

“I was unaware the two of you were acquainted at all,” he said, still studying them.

“It wasn’t a conventional meeting,” Darcy said, her face flushing unexpectedly at what she must have looked like to him that night. “He rather caught me hiding from someone else!”

“I see,” Sir Pierce said, his gaze still hard.

“We were not properly introduced,” Mr. Reid admitted, “but that did not stop us from getting along exceptionally well.”

“And whose idea was it to meet in the garden?” he asked.

“Oh, mine, Sir,” Darcy said quickly. “I knew it was a full moon tonight and thought it would be romantic.”

“Which suited my needs very well indeed,” Mr. Reid added. “I should have suggested it myself if she had not. I was hoping to make it a special memory.”

“One Mr. Sitwell almost ruined,” Darcy said with a bit of a put upon sigh. She didn’t like the way that Sir Pierce was asking so many questions. She knew they would be coming, she just hadn’t expected them so soon. He seemed to catch the hint that she was growing tired of the questions. 

“I only want what’s best for you,” he said patting her cheek. She struggled to not pull away from his hand. She only tolerated the man because he had had considerable influence over her father’s work.

“I thank you,” she said, knowing she needed to say it.

“I suppose we need to make an announcement, then,” he said, turning to the musicians to ask them to stop playing. When the music stopped, the conversation also petered out. Once it was relatively quiet, Sir Pierce began to speak again. “I hope everyone is having a wonderful evening.” There were murmurs of agreement. “I have the honor of making a joyous announcement. This evening, in the garden, Mr. Reid proposed to, and was accepted by, Miss Lewis. Congratulations to the couple.” He turned and started clapping.

Several people had gasped at the announcement, and as she looked out to the crowd, Darcy wondered who it might have been. They stood there for what felt like eternity, but was only maybe a minute before Sir Pierce had the musicians begin playing again. 

Darcy looked up a Mr. Reid. He gave a slight shrug and led her away from the front of the room. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” she said steering him over toward one of the corners. “He was a good friend of my father’s and has acted as a fatherly guide for me these past two years since his death.” They came upon a group of older men chatting quietly. The conversation stopped, though, when they saw the couple.

“Darcy,” Dr. Banner said with much joy, “It sounds as though you had an eventful evening.” He took her hands and kissed her on the cheek.

“I have,” she said with warm affection. “Do come meet my excitement.” She turned to allow conversation between the three of them. “Mr. Reid, this is Dr. Banner. Bruce, this is my fiance, Mr. Reid.” The men bowed to each other and then took a moment to examine one another.

“You are bold,” Dr Banner finally said. “You took on my Darcy, and without even asking my permission.”

“He teases,” Darcy said immediately before turning to Bruce and adding, “I am of age. He has no right to deny me this.”

“She knows I would never deny her happiness,” Bruce said easily before turning back to the man he wished to interrogate. “So, will that be you? Will you bring my Darcy happiness?”

Mr. Reid looked down at Darcy and said, “I will strive to do nothing but bring her happiness. It will be my sincere honor.” Darcy felt herself melt a little at his sweet words.

“Yes, they are pretty words, but so far that’s all they are,” Bruce said with an edge to his voice Darcy had not heard before. “I will be watching you. Miss Lewis is not as unprotected as she seems. You will not trifle with her.”

“No need to fear that, Dr. Banner,” Darcy said, breaking the tension. “He has already done so. Mr. Sitwell had...less than pleasant plans for me this evening. I was lucky Mr. Reid was there to deal with him.”

Bruce considered this. “It’s a good start,” he allowed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe Mr. Sitwell and I need to have words.” And with that he turned and left the couple alone.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said quickly. “I didn’t expect him to be so firm with you. I rather thought I was starting us off easy!”

“It’s no matter,” he replied, offering his arm once again. “I cannot say that all of my acquaintances will take the news easily either, I am sorry to say.”

“No, no,” she waved away his concern. “It is to be expected. This must seem very sudden to a good deal of people considering how sudden it was for us.”

The walked around the edge of the dance floor just as the musicians began to tune up for the dancing portion of the night. “Oh!” Darcy said, “I forgot that I have several dances spoken for this evening.”

“Not all of them, I hope?” Mr. Reid asked. “Surely there is one for me, still?”

“I always leave the supper set for Dr. Banner,” she said with a smile. “So that I might have sensible conversation while we eat. He would gladly cede his dance to you. And while I have others that are not spoken for, I’d rather leave them open so we can converse instead.”

He smiled at her. “I would like that very much,” he said as her partner for the opening set appeared at her side. 

“Miss Lewis,” Ian said, stepping up to them, “I do believe this dance is mine.”

“Mr. Boothby, have you met my fiance, Mr. Reid?” she asked.

“I have not yet had the pleasure,” he said, turning to greet the man. “A pleasure to meet you. You and my dear friend have kept things very hush hush. I hadn’t heard even a whisper of this.”

“It was nice to have something to ourselves,” Mr. Reid said, his voice low and very enticing to listen to. “It was more romantic.” She was stunned to hear him say almost exactly what she would have said.

Ian shot her a questioning look. “I suppose I could see that,” he said slowly. “Not that I would have thought of it.”

“You should read a few novels,” Mr. Reid said, surprising her. “They can be very inspiring.”

She was certain that her mouth would have hung open in the most unladylike fashion had the music not called her to order. 

“I believe that is our cue,” Ian said, taking her hand and leading her to the floor.

They lined up as the music began. “I’m shocked at your news this evening Darcy,” he said.

She frowned a bit at his use of her given name. It wasn’t the first time he had used it, but it felt somehow wrong now. “I did not expect it to happen so quickly,” she said before the dance parted them.

“You never even mentioned him to me,” Boothby said, almost a bit petulantly. “I thought we were friends. Hadn’t you just asked that I keep an eye on any men that might not be after you for love?”

“And you did an admirable job,” she said lightly.

“But I haven’t been able to determine if Mr. Reid’s motives are pure. I’ve never even seen you with him.”

“Which was by design, Mr. Boothby,” she said pointedly, hoping he would catch on that she would prefer him to be more formal with her name.

“I don’t believe you’ve even danced with him,” he said.

They parted and did not come back together for several seconds. “One does not need to dance to fall in love,” Darcy said archly. “It is simply helpful.”

“I just worry for you,” he said softly. “I worried that your mother was going to marry you off to the first man to ask, and I wanted more for you.”

“You mean since my father denied you?” she asked. “We were always much better off as friends, you know that.” Darcy was surprised that her mother hadn’t pushed her back toward Ian once her mourning period was over. She had tried to bring it up once (not that she wanted to marry her friend, but more out of curiosity). Her mother had simply said that her father had always had sound judgement, and she wasn’t about to second guess it when he was gone and unable to explain himself. That was good enough for her, and it kept Ian firmly where he belonged: as a friend and not a husband. They would not have suited well. He was fun to be around for an hour or two, but she had weekended at the same estate as him once, and it had nearly driven her crazy. She couldn’t imagine living in the same house as him for the rest of her life.

“I know. And as a friend, I must know, how are you so sure he’s right for you?” He was so earnest it made Darcy forgive him for the terseness of his earlier questions.

“He’s a good man,” she said simply. “I trust him.”

“But how do you know?” he pressed. “When have you had a chance to talk to him? I’ve never even seen you talk at balls. How did you meet?”

The dance was coming to its closing movements. “We met in a library where I took refuge from an over amorous suitor. No thanks to you, I might add. And we talked. It was lovely, and so the next time I needed a breath, I knew where to go to find him. He’s been my refuge the past several weeks.” She was surprised how easily the lie rolled off her tongue. She curtsied as the song ended. “I thank you for your concern,” she said, “but I truly am happy with the match. Would you take me back to him now?” 

“Of course,” Ian said immediately, taking her arm. “I’m sorry to have pressed. I’m just want to see you happy.”

“I know,” she said as they stopped in front of Mr. Reid. “Now, go find your partner for the next set. I will see you later,” she said, dismissing him. Ian bowed to both of them and left.

“Was he quizzing you as you danced?” Mr. Reid asked. “Your face seemed...I don’t know the right word, but perhaps burdened by whatever he was saying?”

Darcy sighed a bit. “He means well. He has been keeping an eye on suitors for me to help keep me from the less scrupulous ones, and our engagement took him by surprise.”

Mr. Reid seemed to consider this. “I did not mean to insult your friend,” he said diplomatically. 

“Truly you did not,” she said, swaying the tiniest bit. “My it is warm in here.”

“Let me fetch us some refreshments,” he said, leading her to a chair. “I will be back in but a moment.” He leaned over, kissing her hand before he disappeared into the crowd. 

He hadn’t been gone longer than a few moments when Mr. Sitwell came up to her. 

“Miss Lewis,” he said, looking down at her chest instead of her eyes.

She stood up. “Mr. Sitwell,” she said, trying to make her voice as cool and as unattached as possible. She quickly scanned the crowd, looking for a friendly face. 

“It should have been me,” he said, sliding close enough to her that she could feel the heat coming off his body. “Not that dandy slip of a man. I followed you out to the garden. You didn’t hurry to meet him. Your movements were not that of a woman having a clandestine meeting. And when I came across Mr. Reid, you weren’t there. I should have been the one to encounter you two together, but I was not. You should have run straight to him, and you didn’t. I know your secret, Miss Lewis.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, hating the way her voice trembled just a bit. “And I don’t know how you know the details of our engagement since I have not yet disclosed them to you.”

Sitwell laughed. “You think the details aren’t the biggest gossip of the night? You come back in with a ripped dress and hair a mess and a sudden engagement and think people won’t talk?”

She shuddered a bit at his words.”You said that like I have anything to be ashamed of. My dress and hair are a mess because  _ you _ chased me while I was trying to meet with my fiance.”

“That’s not what people are saying,” he said. “They’re saying you trapped him. No one believes you fell. They all think you did that to yourself so that it would be incriminating when you were found together. But I know the truth. There’s no way that man has touched you. I bet he won’t even after you’re married. If you’re hoping for a warm bed, you’ll have to find it elsewhere.” He touched her bare arm, and she wanted to scream.

Darcy shuddered. “Miss Lewis!” a bright, new voice called. “Just who I was looking for!” Mr. SItwell pulled away from her. 

“Think about what I said,” he whispered before leaving without acknowledging the newcomer.

Darcy smiled as best she could, but she had begun trembling. “Sit,” the woman in front of her commanded, taking the seat next to her.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know who you are,” she said with a weak smile. “But I thank you very kindly all the same.”

“Miss Penelope Garcia,” she said, taking Darcy’s hands in her own and running soothing circles with her thumbs. “I’m friends with Mr. Reid. I was coming over to meet you, and I couldn’t help but to hear some of what Mr. Sitwell was saying and how very distraught you looked. I hope I’m not overstepping.”

“Not at all,” Darcy said, taking a few deep breaths to calm her nerves. “Mr. Reid went to fetch us some punch because I had grown rather hot, and Mr. Sitwell took his absence as an opportunity.”

Miss Garcia nodded to this. “I know that Mr. Reid has his quirks. He isn’t fond of touching, for example. That’s part of why he hates dancing. But I’m sure he would never be cold to his wife. He’s too kind hearted for that.”

“It seems tonight is the night of people saving me from Mr. Sitwell,” Darcy sighed. “My dress is a wreck because Mr. Sitwell followed me into the garden and then I tripped as he chased me. Mr. Reid saved me from him, and now you have as well. I can never thank you enough.”

Miss Garcia’s hands stopped rubbing the soothing circles. “He chased you?” she said. Her voice hard and serious. “Did he try to hurt you?”

Darcy looked down at their hands. “He would have if not for Mr. Reid. I do not trust the man.”

Miss Garcia squeezed her hands until she looked up. “I am so sorry,” she said. “I promise to watch and never let him get close again if I can stop it.”

Darcy wanted to cry at how perfectly lovely this stranger was being toward her. 

“Oh, hello Miss Garcia,” Mr. Reid said kindly. “I truly hope you’re not making my fiance cry.”

“No, no,” Darcy said quickly. “She saved me from Mr. Sitwell.”

Mr. Reid’s face turned stormy. “He dared approach you while you were alone?” he asked. Darcy nodded. “That scoundrel,” he said, and it was the closest to a curse she had heard so far from the man. 

“He said some truly terrible things to her,” Miss Garcia added. “I only heard some of them, but they’re not the sort of things to repeat in a ballroom.”

Mr. Reid looked between the two women. He handed a glass of punch to Darcy. “Drink this, it will help,” he said calmly. “And I’ll call on you tomorrow, Garcia, so you can tell me what you heard.” Darcy had no doubt he was wondering if Jasper was starting to spread lies about them. (Though, perhaps it wasn’t exactly a lie, but a truth they didn’t want out.)

“Of course,” Miss Garcia said, squeezing the one hand she still held before standing. “It was truly a pleasure to meet you, though I wish it had happened under better circumstances,” she said. “I will call on you tomorrow so we can have a better meeting.”

“I look forward to it,” Darcy said, starting to stand.

“Don’t get up on my account,” Miss Garcia said, turning to leave. “You need a bit more rest, I think. Take care of her,” she said to Mr. Reid.

When she was gone, he took the seat beside her. “Are you truly well?” he asked. “I’m sorry I left you alone. I should have deposited you with a friend.”

“It’s not your fault,” Darcy said. “He would have simply found some other time to speak with me. We do need to speak about what he said, but, for tonight, I’d rather not think about it.”

“Of course,” he said easily. They sat in companionable silence while she sipped her punch and he glared at anyone that attempted to come near them. She was grateful for his interference. She wasn’t feeling very social at the moment.

His glares, though, could not be aimed at her mother, who finally found their little corner.

“Darcy,” her mother said in her ‘no argument’ tone. “I’ve called for the carriage. I am sending you home to change. If you leave now, you can be back by supper. It’s a disgrace to let you continue on in this ruined dress. Say goodbye to your fiance. You’ll be back to see him shortly. I’ll meet you at the foyer to see you into the carriage.”

With that, her mother strode away. Darcy looked at Mr. Reid. “Would you be offended if I didn’t return?” she asked in a whisper. 

“Not at all,” he said. “You’ve been through much tonight. You must be exhausted.”

“But what about you?” she asked. “Won’t people bother you about where I am?”

“They can’t do that if I leave too,” he said simply. “Most people are used to me disappearing to libraries during balls. No one will miss me. Besides, I need to be up bright and early to call on you tomorrow,” he added with a reassuring smile. 

“I’d like that very much,” she said, gazing into his eyes once more, trying to memorize his face so she could remember it properly while she over-analyzed everything tonight alone in her bed. How she wished Jane were here to confide in!

He stood and offered his hand to her. She took it and stood as well. “I’m going to walk you to your mother,” he said. “I don’t want someone else to set upon you because I wasn’t a gentleman. My own mother will never forgive me for leaving you alone for a single moment, but especially not now that I know Mr. Sitwell imposed upon you while I was away. I promised to help protect you, Miss Lewis. I intend to keep that promise.”

“Darcy,” she corrected. “My name is Darcy.”

She was surprised to see a faint blush coat his cheeks. “Darcy,” he said softly. They we just about to step out to the foyer when he paused.”I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, Darcy.”

“I look forward to that as well, Mr. Reid.”

“Spencer,” he corrected.

Now it was her turn to blush. “I look forward to it, Spencer,” she said. He smiled at her and handed her over to her mother, bowing to both before heading back into the ballroom.

Her mother looked her over critically. “Have Anna see to your hair, but just to put it back to rights, not to redo it completely. Put on the forest green dress. It suits you well and you will look very handsome next to your betrothed in it during super.” She herded Darcy outside. “No dallying. You must hurry if you’re going to be back by then!”

“Yes mother,” Darcy said, only feeling a tiny bit guilty that she wouldn’t be following that advice at all. 

Their footman opened the carriage door and handed her in. Her eyes didn’t adjust to the darkness of the carriage until they had already started moving. But when they did, she nearly shrieked at the sight of a woman across from her. Nearly. But did not. Instead she straightened her spine. 

“I’m at a loss,” she said, proud of her unwavering voice. “I’m certain you know who I am, for you are in my carriage, but I don’t know who you are.”

“Lady Prentiss,” the woman said, leaning forward some. “And I’m impressed. I expected you to scream.”

“You’re not the first to intimidate me this evening,” she said with more courage than she felt. 

“Did someone threaten you?” the woman asked, leaning even more forward. Some moonlight from the window illuminated her face, and Darcy was suddenly able to place the name. Lady Prentiss was a widow. She had been married just one year when her husband died, leaving everything to her. They had no children. Many men had pursued her, but she had rebuffed them all.

“He didn’t actually issue a threat,” she said, “though he did try to scare me. Twice, actually. Though, I suppose the first time there was an implied threat with the way he was chasing me.” She could tell that the widow wanted to ask more. “I am guessing, though, that Mr. Sitwell’s generally vile nature is not why you’re here.” She hoped that dropping his name would tell Lady Prentiss plenty. Mr. Sitwell was somewhat well known among the unmarried girls.

“He is not, though I supposed I shouldn’t have been surprised he was involved,” Lady Prentiss said. “I know some people that would be happy to see to it that he never bothers you, or anyone else, ever again.”

Darcy smiled. “I think the majority of the unattached women would appreciate that, but I also do not want the guilt, nor the glory, of being the one to ask for such a thing.”

“You’re not what I expected for Reid’s bride-to-be.”

“Oh?” Darcy asked, wondering just what someone would expect of the woman who married him.

“You’re very lively. I would have thought he’d pick someone else who loved to hide away in libraries.”

“I do love a good book,” Darcy admitted, “But I also love dancing. I actually think he’ll be very happy to know he’ll never be expected to dance with many other women besides me once we are safely married.”

“So you’ve danced with him?”

“Well, no,” Darcy admitted. “We were supposed to dance the supper set, but I don’t plan on returning, even though my mother expects me to.” She could see Lady Prentiss getting ready to say something. “Don’t worry. I told him I wasn’t returning. I think he was planning on leaving as well, which I think he would prefer. I’m surprised that he attends so many balls since he seems to dislike them so much.”

Lady Prentiss studied her for a moment. “Mr. Reid is a dear friend,” she finally said. “He sometimes gets himself into trouble, and I make it my business to look out for him as best I can.”

“And am I trouble, Lady Prentiss?” she asked, now understanding the point of this ambush.

“I think you might be,” Lady Prentiss admitted, “though it is possible you’re the type of trouble he needs.”

Darcy smiled at that. “And I just tonight promised that I would show him he wouldn’t regret his choice in me,” she said with a sigh. “But if I am trouble, I don’t see how it will be possible to keep that promise.”

“Trouble isn’t always a bad thing,” Lady Prentiss said as the carriage drew to a stop. “I hope that your kind of trouble will be just what he needs. But, just so we’re clear, everyone thinks my husband’s death was an accident. The same will be true of yours, if I deem it necessary.” She could hear the coachman lowering the stairs. “See you soon, Miss Lewis,” she said just before the coach door opened. Darcy didn’t look back as she stepped out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer explains himself to Hotch and gets a surprise visitor.

Spencer wanted to watch Miss Lewis be handed into her carriage, but he knew that would be considered peculiar, so he forced himself to walk back into the ballroom. He was unsurprised to see Lord Hotchner catching his eye when he entered. He stepped off to the side of the room where the man was standing, aware of the unspoken expectation that he would come to explain himself. Truly, it had been a long night and he wanted nothing more than to go home and crawl into bed, possibly with the book he had intended to read this evening and let himself sort through his feelings on the matter. He knew, though, that this one more stop was necessary before he would be able to do so.

“Reid,” Hotchner said by way of greeting. “Care to tell me what happened this evening?”

In truth, he did not. “I became engaged, Lord. Certainly, you knew it would happen sometime or another.”

“It seems that you’ve tied yourself to a woman you just met, though. I believe it’s fair to be curious about any engagement that happens over the course of one hour.”

He knew the man said this out of concern for him, but he had used up most of his patience for the night. “What would you have had me do, Lord?” he asked. “We were found together. Her reputation would have been in ruins if I had done anything less.”

“You’re an honorable man, Spencer,” his sometimes boss said kindly. “But I worry that she has taken advantage of you. If you don’t wish this marriage, there are still things that can be done.”

“Do you know why she looked a mess?” Spencer asked. “It’s because she fell while running away from Mr. Sitwell who was pursuing her in the garden. If it hadn’t been me, it would have been him.” He appreciated the sour look on Hotchner’s face when he mentioned Sitwell.

“But what do you know of her?” Hotchner pressed. “How is it that she came to stumble across you, of all men, in her time of need? I’ve no doubt there were others in the garden that could have saved her. Possibly those with other women who wouldn’t have had to take such drastic measures to protect her reputation.” He gave a stern look. “Do you know who her father was?”

“I don’t care,” Spencer said. “I care that she was in need. And then she was kind and worried more for me than herself when we were found together. I care that her mother seemed completely happy to have it be Sitwell instead of me.”

Lord Hotchner looked at him with sad eyes. “Does this have anything to do with Maeve?”

Spencer flinched at her name. “That was over a year ago,” he said. “It’s not as though I am rushing to replace her.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“Then what were you saying?”

Lord Hotchner sighed. “I was saying that maybe you were feeling the loss of what you could have right now if she hadn’t died, or maybe you are trying to chase away her memories by making new ones. You’ve made promises to a woman you knew for a handful of minutes. That’s not like you. I have a right to be concerned.”

“You have no such right,” Spencer ground out, not liking all the questions Hotchner was putting in his head. “You’re not my father. I am marrying her, with or without your blessing.”

Lord Hotchner shook his head. “You didn’t need my blessing with Miss Donovan either, so this shouldn’t surprise me now. You always  _ were _ stubborn.”

Spencer gave a terse bow. “Good evening,” he bit out before turning and heading back to the foyer. He was ready to call for his carriage and leave this place.

The ride back to his townhouse was quick, but his head was full of thoughts he didn’t know what to do with. Lord Hotchner wasn’t wrong— he knew very little about Miss Lewis. But the true fear in the woman’s eyes when she thought that Mr. Sitwell was going to catch her was not something easily faked. And she had been so concerned about  _ him _ when they had been found together. Surely that made her an honorable woman. There was no way for her to have known he was out there. He didn’t like thinking about what would have happened if he had not been sitting on that bench. 

He retired directly to his rooms, waving off his valet as soon as possible. It had been unfair of Lord Hotchner to bring up Miss Donovan. Her death had been hard on him, but he had no rights to a public mourning because she had died before their wedding. It had taken time, but he had mourned her and moved on. He had not been considering marriage again at all, but that was more out of the unlikelihood of finding anyone, not a lack of desire.

He knew that sleep would not come easy that night, so he tried to put his restlessness to good use, contemplating questions to ask his betrothed when he saw her tomorrow and ideas for a proper courting gift.

Even though he had slept but little, he still woke at his normal early hour. He quickly dressed, needing to get to the park to meet Miss Garcia. Whenever they needed to speak, they found it easiest to do so early in the park when very few were about. He needed to know what had happened with Sitwell and Penelope’s thoughts about Miss Lewis. His mind had whirled in dark directions after his conversation with Lord Hotchner, and he needed a counterbalance. Penelope would do admirably in that regard, he had no doubt.

The early morning was overcast and grey. There was a bit of fog waiting for the sun to burn it off as he entered the park. Sitting on a bench not far from the entrance was Miss Garcia with Mr. Morgan. He should have realized she wouldn’t be alone.

“Good morning, Reid,” Morgan called to him. “Sounds like you had an eventful night.”

“I did,” he agreed. “And I believe you have yet to congratulate me.”

Morgan laughed. “Congratulations,” he said. “Now come walk with us and tell all.”

Spencer joined them and after swearing them to secrecy, told them the truth of the previous night. 

Penelope gasped. “Poor Miss Lewis!” she said when he told them about Mr. Sitwell’s behavior in the garden. “To be trapped in such a marriage.” She shook her head. “It makes what he did later all that more reprehensible.”

“What  _ did  _ happen?” Spencer asked as they picked the slightly longer path to follow. 

“He told her that he knew the truth; that she had not been there to meet you, but rather just been running from him. He seemed to have planned for the exact outcome that happened, except with him instead of you as the groom. He then insinuated that everyone thought she had orchestrated the whole thing by ruining her dress on purpose to trap you. I made myself known when he implied that you would never warm her bed and she should look elsewhere for those comforts.” Penelope blushed at the final bit of her story and Spencer blanched. 

“Is it possible?” Derek asked. “Could she have really planned all this?”

“I don’t think so,” Spencer said at the same time Penelope let out an affronted yelp.

“How dare you Derek Morgan!” she chided. “You didn’t see the very real fear in her eyes when he was talking to her in the ballroom.”

“Perhaps that’s what made her desperate enough to trap our friend.”

Penelope pulled her arm from his and crossed her arms over her chest. “You have no idea, none at all, what it’s like to be a woman in her position. Men like Mr. Sitwell see us as nothing but property to gain. Our Reid will treat her with respect; as a person. Her fear was real. She has no father to protect her and based on what Reid said about her mother, no protector with the sense to keep her safe. She’s kept herself safe since her father’s death, and that is no small feat.”

“Exactly the sort of thing that might make her seek a way to protect herself,” Morgan argued.

Spencer considered their words. “You have not seen the way she looks at me,” he said finally. “I don’t detect anything but warmth and happiness. When she  _ is _ concerned, it is typically for me and not herself.”

“Because she has secured her future,” Morgan said.

Penelope sighed. “You have not met her yet. Maybe save your judgment. I do not think she loves our friend,” she conceded, “but she has only known him a few hours. I think they will suit well, and if she has any sense, she’s already well on her way to being in love with him.”

Morgan held his tongue at this. 

“I am concerned about the rumor Sitwell mentioned,” Spencer said as they started the loop back to the entrance to the park.

“I’m sure no one thinks you a cold fish,” Miss Garcia said.

“That’s not the one I meant,” Spencer said, his cheeks a bit flushed. “I meant that people are saying she trapped me.”

“I had not heard any word of it last night, but that does not mean he is not spreading it himself,” replied Penelope.

“But there is reason for people to believe it,” Derek said. “She has been out of mourning for nearly eighteen months.”

“That’s not fair,” Penelope said. “Her mother was in mourning for a full year, and thus Miss Lewis was still restricted from society, even if her own mourning had ended.”

“That’s still nearly a year out of mourning with no match,” Morgan argued. “It’s not difficult to believe her desperate.”

Penelope let out a frustrated sigh. “You are  _ men _ ,” she said with indignation. “You simply don’t understand. Where is Lady Prentiss when I need her to explain these things?” They came back to the bench where they had first met. “It’s complicated and hard, and I understand why you think she might be desperate. I can even believe she was desperate. But the fact of the matter is that she had many other options, such as Mr. Boothby who once asked for her hand before her father died. He would have been much easier to marry and he would have been known to her. Mr. Reid is entirely unknown. All she had to know he was different was his behavior when she was being pursued by a different villain. In her shoes, I would be hopeful that he was better, but vigilant for signs he was not. Men can very well play the hero for a handful of minutes, for a night, but that is not always their true character.”

Spencer considered this. Was it possible that Miss Lewis was scared of him? That she had gone home to her own bed and cried herself to sleep, worried he was no better than the man she had run from? He would need to reassure her. He hadn’t considered how difficult life must be for women.

“I can’t call on her until a little later today,” Penelope said, “but I do plan on calling. I suppose I shall see you there?”

“You shall,” Spencer agreed. “I need to be going now, though. I haven’t picked out a gift for her yet, and there isn’t much time to do so.”

He made his goodbyes to his friends, and quickly made his way back to his house, taking the steps two at a time up the stairs to deposit his jacket before heading to his library. He had some thoughts about what might make a suitable gift, but he needed to look something up first.

He entered the library and shut the door, having told his staff to not disturb him. He was startled when he realized that he was not alone in the room.

“Hello Mr. Reid,” a cool, feminine voice said, slipping from the shadows at the far end of the room. The first thing he noticed was her red hair. She was wearing a finely cut riding suit, and he had no idea who she was. He slid his hand under his desktop to the knife he kept strapped there. “No need for that,” she said, coming and taking a seat in the chair across from him. “This is a friendly visit.”

“Excuse me for not believing that since you have ambushed me in my own home, and I don’t know who you are.”

“My name is Natasha,” she said with a sharp smile. “I am not here because of the government work you do,” she added, causing him to tense more. “I am here because you have come into the sphere of someone I care about.” When he said nothing to this, she added, “Miss Lewis is dear to me.”

“Does she know you’re here?” he asked, his hand still on the knife, though he had yet to draw it.

“She does not know I have returned. I’ve been away for a while. I wanted to stop here before visiting her.” She leaned back in her chair, apparently not considering him a threat. “Tell me, what are your intentions toward Miss Lewis?”

“I intend to marry her,” he said easily. “Which is why you are here. Are you trying to scare me off from her? We made a very public announcement last night at Sir Pierce’s ball.”

“So I could not intimidate you out of the engagement?”

“No,” he said, spitting out the word like it was as distasteful as what she had suggested. “Miss Lewis and I have been meeting each other for weeks. I have a high regard for her, and last night would have been perfect if not for Mr. Sitwell thinking he had some sort of right to her because she was unattached. He marred a perfectly good proposal.”

“How did you meet?” she asked, apparently unaffected by his somewhat emotional response.

“In the library at the Twelfth Night ball,” he said, suddenly very happy they had discussed what they would tell people. He hadn’t expected to need the story so quickly. “I don’t care much for dancing and socializing, so I often slip away to the library to read for large portions of the balls to which I am invited. She came in to hide from an unwanted suitor and positioned herself behind a chair where he could not see her. When he came in, all he saw was me, and he moved on. I complimented her choice of hiding place. She seemed a bit embarrassed, but we had several minutes of easy conversation before she worried she would be missed and returned to the ballroom. The next week, she sought me out in the library. It became a habit, and we fell in love. Last night was to be the first night we met outside the library.” He looked Natasha in the eye. “I care, deeply, for your friend, and I won’t be persuaded from her side.”

Natasha stood. “You play the part of a besotted suitor well. People will believe you.” She placed her hands on his desk and leaned in. “But if you hurt my Darcy, they will never find your body,” she said, her eyes a cool steel. She pulled her hands from the desk and back to the corner where she had appeared from. She slid back out the window that he belatedly realized had been her point of entry. 

His hand ran over the knife once more, a new idea forming. This engagement was certainly shaping up to be much different from his last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So some of you might be seeing replies on super old comments from me. I'm trying to get all my replies taken care of. School got ridiculously hard for several months, and then my comment count got high enough to make me feel anxious just looking at it. I've been working my way backwards through it, though, and I'm finally only about three months behind now. Thanks to everyone who commented and waited for me to catch back up with life. School starts again tomorrow, but I have chapters of this banked to keep me going through most of the term. And, truly, thank you to everyone that comments. It keeps me going when school is stressful.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More friends visit and an engagement gift is presented.

Darcy’s mother had not been pleased when she had not returned to the ball, but for once showed mercy when Darcy described the headache that had set upon her from all the excitement of the night. It probably helped that she actually looked ill since the headache wasn’t a lie. She hadn’t even had to ask Anna to cover for her. Her maid had taken one look at her and sent her straight to bed. 

She had woken up feeling better, but with many conflicted feelings. It was still early, so she slipped on her pelisse, grabbed her parasol, and went to the park for a walk that she hoped would help her sort through all the thoughts swirling in her head.

She had just taken the turn on the path when her ruminations were interrupted by a man in a passionate embrace with someone that looked like her Jane. Darcy didn’t think; she just acted. She started beating at the man with her parasol, demanding he unhand the woman, only to be shocked that it was, indeed her Jane.

“Jane!” she cried, pulling her into a tight embrace before pushing the small woman behind her and holding out her parasol like a sword. “She is by no means unprotected, and I will not let you harm her,” she snarled at the man who looked surprisingly delighted by her statement.

“Darcy,” Jane said, finally calling her attention. “Meet Prince Thor Odinson, my fiance.”

“What?” she asked, stupidly, turning to look at Jane.

“Surprise?” Jane said sheepishly. “We came home early because I am to be married and there is much to do.”

She looked at Jane once more before again keeping the woman behind her and turning to the frankly massive man in front of her. “I don’t care that you are a Prince,” she said, holding her head high, “I will cut out your tongue and feed it to your dog if you harm a hair on her head. I don’t care if I spend all my unimpressive fortune to do it and the rest of my life in a cell. I will not let you harm her.”

“She is just as you promised, my dear,” Prince Thor said. “I like her immensely.” He shifted his focus from Jane to Darcy. “I will not hurt your friend. I love her very much. Thank you for your willingness to protect her.”

Darcy lowered her makeshift weapon and curtsied. “It’s a pleasure to meet your Prince Thor.” She took a deep breath and turned to face Jane so she could watch her reaction. “I guess this is to be a morning of revelations,” she said carefully. “I, too, am engaged.” 

She watched Jane’s face go from surprise to excitement to worry. “But to whom?” she asked somewhat frantically. “Please don’t tell me it was that rake, Sitwell.”

“No, it was not him,” she rushed to assure Jane. “Though he did play a role in my present situation.”

“Calling it a situation does not assuage my fears,” Jane said, concern etching her face.

“Let us walk and I will acquaint you with the events of the last twelve hours.”

As they slowly followed the path, she did just that with both Jane and Prince Thor asking questions as she told her story.

“Why can I not place Mr. Reid?” Jane asked. “I’m certain I have heard his name.”

“I don’t know, Jane. He was never one to be bandied about as a match, as far as I am aware.”

“Oh!” Jane said, gripping her friend’s arm. “He was engaged to Miss Donovan. You remember her, no?” When Darcy said nothing, Jane clarified. “She passed from that mysterious illness. She was quarantined just a few weeks before the wedding, and no one, save the doctor was allowed to enter her home. The poor woman died quite alone.”

“Oh my,” Darcy said, finally recalling the woman and her story. “That poor man,” she said, her heart breaking for him. “If I remember correctly, her body had to be burned, so he likely wasn’t even able to properly mourn. And that was but a year ago.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I’ve forced him into this engagement after his heartbreaking past.”

“I doubt you have forced him,” Prince Thor said gently. “Even discovered together in your state, there are still things the man could have done to not end up engaged to you. Furthermore, he made it seem like that had always been the plan instead of simply acquiescing. It sounds as though he was an honorable man who made a choice.” Prince Thor stopped for a moment before adding, “Though, if I am mistaken, I would gladly dispose of him for you. I am of a mind to do so to this Mr. Sitwell you spoke of.”

Darcy laughed. “You’re the second to make that offer.” She turned to Jane. “Mr. Reid is to call on me today. Do say you’ll come so I can introduce you to him?”

“Of course,” Jane said, taking her friend’s hand and squeezing it. “I have missed you.”

“And I, you,” Darcy said smiling. “But I am certain I am wanted at home so I can prepare for the veritable crowd I am sure to draw today after last night.” She pressed a kiss to Jane’s cheek. “I am very glad you are home.”

They said goodbye and Darcy left her friend and her friend’s new fiance in the park as she hurried back to her home. The home that wouldn’t be hers much longer, she suddenly realized. Soon she would be moving into her husband’s home. She wondered what it was like— if she would be able to feel comfortable there. Had Miss Donovan already started making changes? How would he feel if she wanted to change those things? There was so much she needed to discuss with him.

When she entered the house, one of the maids told her that her mother was in a mood already. Darcy nodded her understanding. She wondered if the staff in her new home would be as kind as those in her current one. She took a moment to steel herself and headed up to her room.

“There you are,” her mother said, standing in the middle of her room going through her closet with Anna. “Of course you have no consideration for the work that must be done before we have callers today.  You have to look perfect so that men envy Mr. Reid and women wish they were you. I ordered a bath. I know you like to do whatever you wish, but, for once, do as I say.” With that she turned back to Anna, sorting the gowns once more, talking mostly to herself as she debated which one Darcy should wear.

When she had bathed, been dressed, and Anna had fixed her hair, she had to admit she looked uncommonly well. Her mother truly did love her, and her attention to detail was definitely being used to every advantage. When she entered the drawing room, her mother smiled her first genuine smile of the whole ordeal. “You look radiant,” she said. “He might not have been in love with you last night, but he will be well on his way after today.”

“Oh, but he is very much in love with me,” Darcy argued, trying to push her story.

“With the way you looked?” her mother asked, raising an eyebrow. “Today will remind him what he first saw in you, and will hopefully inspire his affection.”

And with that, her mother fell quiet and their first guest was announced.

Mr. Reid was not the first to arrive, but he did arrive inside of the first hour they were taking callers. He had quickly taken the seat nearest to her and she was lost in him for several breathless seconds. He had carefully dressed, and surprisingly his cravat very nearly matched her dress, making them look a matched pair. She couldn’t miss the way his eyes had swept over her when he entered and he had even flushed the tiniest bit. She was certain she had as well. He was very attractive. The darkness had hidden just how young he looked and how effortlessly handsome his features were. She already liked him, but when he smiled at her, she thought it was possible to love him.

She quickly regained her composure and introduced him to the guests he did not already know. He stayed by her side the entirety of the morning, several times introducing her to his friends, including a woman that was pregnant and, if she was the guessing sort, close to her confinement. She had instantly liked Jennifer (with whom she was quickly on a first name basis). She promised to send her husband round at the next ball to make his own introductions. There was also Penelope from the previous night who came with Mr. Morgan who seemed to find fault in the way she smiled and laughed and bantered with those that were there during his rather short visit. She had given a worried look to Mr. Reid when Mr. Morgan left, and he had shrugged.

Introducing him to Jane and Prince Thor was quite amusing. Prince Thor still seemed to like her a great deal and took pains to give a very firm look at Mr. Reid while giving poorly veiled threats should anything happen to her. This seemed to spur him to remember something. Calling hours were nearly over, and it was just the four of them and her mother left.

“I almost forgot,” he said, pulling a small box from his pocket. “I brought you a gift.” He looked a little worried about handing it over. “I have a family necklace for you also, but I must make a short trip to retrieve it, and didn’t want to be apart from you so soon after our engagement. I hope you’ll accept this small gift, though, for now.”

He handed over the box, and Darcy slid off the lid and peeled back the paper to reveal something she couldn’t quite place. She pulled it out of the box and realized that it was an implement in a sheath. She pulled on the slim piece of metal to reveal the smallest, sharpest looking knife she had ever seen. The detail work on it was exquisite, and it shone dangerously as she twisted it to get a better look, gently running her finger along the edge to gauge the blade. It was sharp, but she was careful to not cut herself.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, looking up at him. His face showed his relief at her words.

“I won’t always be with you, but this can be. For when you need protection.” Her smile was small but full of admiration.

“I thank you,” she said, her eyes falling back to the blade. She looked up through her lashes at him. “It’s the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received.”

“It’s a strange engagement gift,” her mother said

“I love it,” Darcy said, looking back to Mr. Reid, “and I suppose that’s what matters most.”

“I have not known her long,” Prince Thor said, “but I find this gift most fitting. Mr. Reid must know her well to have selected something so unconventional yet right.”

Darcy silently thanked the Prince for his words. Her mother could no longer find fault if royalty had approved of the gift.

Jane and Prince Thor left soon after, her mother seeing them out and giving Darcy a few moments alone with her fiance.

“I know a knife is not a traditional gift,” he said, “but I thought it fitting that I provide you ways to protect yourself since that is what I promised.”

“My mother might find it odd, but I truly love it. I plan to carry it always. Thank you, Mr. Reid, for being so thoughtful.”

“Spencer,” he gently corrected her. “We are alone. Can you not call me by my name? You did it so prettily last night.”

“Spencer,” she said, flushing at the intimacy of using his given name. 

“My uncle would like to hold a dinner in our honor next week. Well, he is my uncle in the same way Dr. Banner is yours. That was why I was late. He stopped by to see me.”

“I know of no pressing engagements, so name the date and I shall be there.”

“Would you, maybe, be interested in viewing my house and being introduced to my staff? I have not told them yet about our engagement. I was hoping to be able to tell them when they might meet you.”

Darcy took a moment to think about this. “I’m sorry, all of this is moving so quickly.” She looked at him and saw a furrow of concern between his brows. She gingerly reached out, smoothing the crease with her finger. “Do not worry, Spencer,” she said. “I am delighted to meet them. I am just a little overwhelmed at how much my life is changing and how rapidly it is happening.”

“It’s a change for both of us, Miss Lewis.”

“Darcy,” she corrected. “And you’re absolutely right. You certainly didn’t ask for this. Tell me how I can make this easier for you.” Darcy frowned. “I’ve been nothing but trouble for you since the moment you met me. I’m so sorry Spencer.”

Spencer took her hand in his. “Look at me, Darcy.” She looked up to see him searching her face. “I do not regret what I did, and I refuse to let the events of our engagement ruin our future together. Please, put it behind you.”

“You are the best of men, Spencer,” she said.

He let go of her hand. “I should be going,” he said, standing. “I need to inform Rossi that he can set a date, and I need to make a trip to retrieve your ring. Plus there are marriage contracts to be drawn up.”

“My mother will insist on several shopping trips to prepare my wardrobe for marriage, so I shall keep busy. But know that you will always be on my mind.” She cleared her throat, standing herself. “I hope you won’t think me bold, but one of the advantages of engagement is that we may write to one other. Would you be opposed to me writing to you?”

“No,” he said immediately, a look she couldn’t identify crossing his face. “I would like that very much.”

“Then until we next meet, Spencer,” she said with a small smile.

“Until then, my Darcy,” he said, smiling and striding toward the door. Darcy followed him, giving him a shy smile when he looked back at her once more before leaving.

Darcy’s mother looked at her and shook her head. “Only you would be thrilled with such an unconventional suitor.” She sighed. “Meet me in the study in an hour. We need to discuss our shopping schedule.”

“Yes mother,” Darcy said, rushing up the stairs, eager to pull out her stationery to start her first letter. She was less likely to be flustered by a piece of paper.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer visits his mother and marriage contracts are discussed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a small change to chapter 3. Spencer is getting her a ring, not a necklaces. Desupi and I discussed this. Engagement rings weren't really a thing, but I wanted him to give her one. Since it's a family heirloom and not really an engagement ring, she said it could work, so I switched back to my original intention.

Spencer left Darcy’s home, surprised at his own actions during the visit. He hadn’t expected to be so affected by her presence, but when he walked into the room, he was struck by how lovely she had looked sitting there. And then she  turned towards him, and her face brightened. When she smiled he thought he would come undone. Her reaction to his gift delighted him. She hadn’t only been kind in thanking him, she had truly seemed to take the gift in the spirit he had intended. 

If she liked the knife, he thought there was certainly a good chance they would get along well. When they were alone, near the end of their visit, he had let her touch him. He had taken her hand in his. He had offered his arm to women, but not  _ held _ anyone’s hand since Maeve. The idea of it hadn’t crossed his mind, he had just taken her hand in his like it was the most natural thing. And now, in his carriage, he imagined he could still feel her fingers on his. He rubbed his fingers together, trying to memorize the feel of her touch before it disappeared.

When he arrived home, he asked his housekeeper to get the staff together for an announcement and quickly penned a note to Sir Rossi, telling him to go ahead with the dinner planning. When he finished, the last of the staff was just gathering.

“I will keep this brief,” he said, a little nervous about how his staff would take the news. “Last night, I asked Miss Darcy Lewis to be my wife, and she accepted.” He heard some low murmuring at his announcement. “I hope you will welcome her with open arms. She will be calling  in the next week to meet all of you and view the house. While we await her visit, I’d like her living quarters to be aired out and the house cleaned so that it might look its best for her.” He looked at his housekeeper and valet. “Mrs. Richards and Mr. Johns, a word in my study, please?”

Thus dismissed, the staff dispersed to no doubt gossip as they got back to work. In his study, he asked Mr. Johns to close the door before addressing the two senior staff members. “I am sure you have questions, so let me hear them.”

Mrs. Richards spoke first. “Congratulations, sir. I am pleased you found a bride. Do you know anything of her tastes? Is there any room she’d prefer, I should see to or dishes that should be prepared?”

Spencer looked at his housekeeper. “Pretty questions, but not the ones I expected first, Joan,” he said. “For now the answer is no to both. I just want to show her the house at the best it can be. Now, would you please take care to ask the question you really want to ask?”

Mrs. Richards pursed her lips before leveling her gaze on him. “I had not known you were courting, sir.”

“That is not a question,” he said, wishing to know which of the several possible ways she was going to go with this.

“Was she compromised, sir?” she asked, her cheeks red, but her eyes steady and hard. Mr. Johns stiffened beside her.

Spencer laughed. “No, she was not. In truth, I saved her from someone compromising her.” 

Mrs. Richards nodded at this answer. “I did not think that of you, but I needed to know if I was to curtail with the gossip around the house.”

Spencer nodded. This was why he liked his staff so much. The senior members were not afraid of being bold with him when it was necessary to do their jobs. He hoped Darcy would feel the same way. “What about you, Mr. Johns, any questions?”

His valet took a breath before asking, “How does she compare to Miss Donovan?” He asked without flinching, but Spencer could tell it hurt the man to ask.

“You need not fear when speaking about her,” Spencer said. “I would have been happy with her, but that was not the hand dealt to me. Miss Lewis is only similar in coloring. Her personality is much different, though I do hope she will fit well in this house. She accepted my most unconventional gift exceptionally well this morning, so I have high hopes for a happy future.”

“Yet, you do not love her?” Mrs. Richards asked.

“I have not had time to fall in love, no. We met just last night.”

“But you trust that she is not a fortune hunter?”

“I do,” he said quietly. “I don’t have any firm reason to believe it other than her behavior the handful of times we have been together. I hope you will feel that way too when you meet her.” He looked between the two of them. “Now then, we have a few things to discuss in preparation for her arrival.”

He finished his conference with Mrs. Richard and Mr. Johns in short order and then turned his attention to the next item of business. He wrote a letter to his steward, informing him of his news and asking for an update on the estate. Then he sent for his attorney to begin the process of drawing up a marriage contract. On a whim, he sent out another letter in relation to the contract before turning his attention to the trip he would make the next day while he waited for the attorney’s arrival.

He spent just two hours with his attorney. They simply revised the contract he had with Miss Donovan. It was a good starting point, and there were a few changes he thought would be prudent. The attorney had just left when Dr. Banner was shown into his study.

“Dr. Banner,” he said, standing to greet the man. “I’m so glad you could see me on such short notice.”

“You said it related to Darcy, so I made room in my schedule. How can I help you today Mr. Reid?”

He indicated that Dr. Banner should sit. “I’m unsure, sir, who I should negotiate her marriage contract with since her father has passed. Even if it is not you, I would still like your opinion on it since I believe you have her best interests at heart.”

“You imply her mother doesn’t.”

“I did not say that.”

Dr. Banner sighed. “You did not need to. Her mother means well, but she also would have married Darcy off to any number of unsuitable men without my interference. As luck would have it, though Darcy is of age and can make her own choice, her father declared me her guardian for the purpose of the contract. Show me what you have drafted.”

Spencer slid the paper over to Dr. Banner and tried not to be too eager as he watched him read. “You are being very generous to my girl,” Dr. Banner finally said. “She never would have asked for, let alone dreamed of half of what you’re offering. Are you sure this is what you want?”

“It is,” Spencer said with a firm nod of his head. The one major change he had made from the last time he had written such a contract was to leave the townhouse to her upon his death, regardless of any other circumstances. Hopefully, this would provide her some protection, even though he no longer would be able to.

“In that case,” Bruce said, pulling out some papers of his own, “I’d like to show you this.” He pulled one of the papers from the sheath and slid it across to Spencer who read carefully, twice, before looking at the man across from him. 

“You had several different papers to choose from based on your opinion of me, did you not?” he asked. ”I take it I have passed some sort of test?”

Dr. Banner nodded. “You care enough about Darcy to provide for her after your death. Even she doesn’t know what’s on that paper. She will bring to this marriage, a sum of twenty thousand pounds as dowry.” Dr. Banner leveled a gaze on him. “Everyone assumes that she comes with very little, and that was by design. I sold an invention of her father’s, at his request, not long before his death, with all the money being set aside for her future happiness. If I deemed her husband cruel, it was to be used to help her escape.”

Spencer sat, stunned at the revelation. “I don’t need her money,” he finally said.

Dr. Banner smiled. “That is precisely why you shall have it. Do you wish to call back your attorney so we can sign these today?”

Spencer thought for a moment. “No. I’d like to make certain that Miss Lewis approves of the settlement before we sign,” he finally said.

Dr. Banner smirked.”I gave you the right paper.” he said standing. “I will bring her by tomorrow. How does eleven sound?”

Spencer frowned. “I need to make a trip tomorrow to get her ring. How about the day after tomorrow?”

“I’ll make sure she leaves room for it in her schedule.” Spencer stood, offering his hand. “It’s been a pleasure meeting with you Mr. Reid. I wish you many happy years with Darcy.”

They shook. “Until Wednesday, then.”

When Dr. Banner was gone, he took the settlement papers and locked them into his desk, still stunned by the revelation that Darcy had a large dowry that she knew nothing about. From a purely digressive viewpoint, this could be to their benefit. He knew that society was likely to see Darcy as a fortune hunter, and it was possible that Sitwell was still spreading the rumor that she had trapped Spencer into the marriage. This could go a long way toward dispelling that. Darcy could not be seen as mercenary if she brought so much to the table. This could help legitimize everything. He just needed the right people to learn about her dowry so word would spread. Luckily, he knew just the person.

He looked at the clock. He would have liked to have had supper and then gone to bed, but there was still much to do. He rang for the maid to request his meal be brought to him before he pulled out the missives he had been asked to translate and got to work. Hotchner had delivered them what now felt like an eternity ago, but had just been three short days. The translation was going smoothly, but the phrasing was clunky which usually signaled a code he would need to break. He poured himself a glass of brandy. It was going to be a long night.

The next morning came too soon. Mr. Johns had kindly waited an additional two hours before rousing him, so while he didn’t feel rested, he also did not feel dead on his feet. The trip out was only an hour or two by carriage, depending on the weather, and he would spend several hours before returning, thus filling his day. Whenever he visited his mother, he tried to make a day of it, but today he worried how she would take an unexpected visit and his news. There was only one way to find out.

“Mr. Reid!” the maid said when he arrived, “We had not expected you.”

“I am sorry I did not write ahead. I had news I wished to share with my mother without delay.” He paused. “How is she?”

“She’s having a good day,” the woman told him. It had been a hard decision, moving her out of the house and into the country, mostly alone, but she was much better when she wasn’t completely overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of the city, and it was better for him as he could not provide the constant minding she needed, but a paid staff could. “She has been in the greenhouse, of late,” the maid continued. “She has seedlings of which to tend.”

He smiled at this. Having some occupation and finding happiness in it meant she truly was doing well at the moment. “Thank you, Millie,” he said. “I’d like to see my mother, and then the housekeeper once we are done.”

“Of course Mr. Reid,” she said with a small bow. The house itself was a small cottage, and the staff was minimal. There was the housekeeper, Millie, a cook, and a footman; all of them well paid to see to his mother in ways he could not. He tried to make sure they were never in want of anything in the high hopes that it would ensure their good treatment of her. Millie showed him into the small sitting room and went to fetch his mother.

“Spencer!” she said happily when she joined him. “I didn’t know you were coming! If I had known, we would have been prepared to see you!”

He stood up and hugged her. “It was really a quite sudden decision for me as well,” he said, sitting with her. “I hope you can forgive me.”

She looked at him carefully. “I am going to ring for tea, and then you will tell me all about her.” His surprise must have shown on his face because she said, “I know this look on you. I know the face of my son in love.”

He gaped like a fish for several seconds before saying, “There’s a story to tell with it, but I am not in love. At least, not yet.”

“Oh, you think you’re not,” his mother said with a flutter of her hand as though she were shooing away the words, “but you think she is special, and that takes a lot for you. It won’t be long until your brain catches up with your heart.”

He flushed at this and waited as Millie delivered the tea. “I am engaged,” he said quietly once they were alone again.

His mother beamed. “Tell me everything.”

It took nearly an hour to relate to her everything that had happened over the past several days with his mother asking many questions. She was sharp in a way he remembered from his childhood, and he was thankful that today had been a good day and not one where she was lost in a fog and wouldn’t be able to recall their discussion minutes after it happened. She was speaking like the well-educated lady she was, and it gave him hope that things were getting better; that this move, while difficult, had been the right choice.

When he was finally done answering all her questions about the events of the proposal, she asked. “You have come for the ring then?” He gave a small nod. She considered this. “Have you thought, son, about the fact that you never came for it before?”

In truth, he had not. “Miss Donovan got sick so soon after our engagement that I did not dare to leave the city.”

“You did not need to,” his mom said softly. “You could have said so in a letter with a courier, and I would have sent it back.” She paused. “I am not trying to hurt you, Spencer. I am also not trying to downplay how much you loved her. I just think it’s a sign of good things to come for you. If you had given the ring to Miss Donovan, it would have likely been destroyed with her body when she died. It was divine intervention that kept you for coming for it. You were always meant to give it to someone else.” She took his hands in hers. “I am not casting aside what you had with her. You had to have it to become the man you are. And I would have loved to have called her daughter. You two were well suited in your quiet, academic way. But Miss Lewis sounds like a woman that will challenge and augment you. I believe you are finally ready for that.” She dropped his hands and stood up. “I will go get it. Wait here.”

He watched his mother leave and considered her words. There was no denying that he cared about the woman he was to marry, but could his mother be right that they could be more than  _ just _ friendly once married? Was he ready to love someone again?

When she returned with the ring, he hadn’t really sorted it out, so instead, he focused on visiting with her and hearing how her garden was doing and her plans for Spring. When he was on the road back to town, the small ring in his pocket, he felt pretty secure in his choice, though he still hadn’t sorted through what his mother had said.

That evening he once more worked late into the night after having a breakthrough on the coded message. He would send word to Lord Hotchner first thing in the morning he thought as he collapsed, face first, into his bed.

The next morning he proceeded as planned and sent word to Lord Hotchner. He mentioned that he had an appointment at eleven, and encouraged him to come before then. He would welcome the distraction while he awaited the arrival of Darcy and Dr. Banner. He had just finished breakfast when Hotchner was announced.

“It’s done?” he asked, skipping over any pleasantries. 

“It is,” Spencer agreed, unlocking the drawer and pulling out the message and its translation. “It was coded, which is why it took longer than normal. It appears they are searching for a lost notebook. They have been instructed to procure it by any means necessary.”

Lord Hotchner nodded at this. “That fits with some of the other things we have learned. Once Prentiss gets back from her fact-finding mission, I am hopeful we will have all the pieces we need to unravel their plan.”

“Hotch, I know it is by design that each of us is kept in the dark, but it might be helpful to read me in on some of it. If I knew just a bit more than the contents of the messages, I might be able to put things together. You pay me to find patterns and put things together. I might be able to do that with more than just messages in foreign languages.”

Hotchner considered this. “Perhaps,” he allowed. “But not until I know what Prentiss has learned on her trip.” They stopped talking when they heard a carriage pulling up. “I assume that is your appointment?”

“It is,” Spencer said. “Dr. Banner and Miss Lewis are here to discuss the marriage contract.”

“Dr. Banner? What does he have to do with it?”

“He was named her guardian with relation to the contract. It was one of her father’s wishes.”

Lord Hotchner frowned at this. “Interesting,” was all he said before looking at Spencer once more. “I will read you in on the details once I have them. Though, are you sure you want them? They might perhaps be distasteful to you.”

“Of course I do,” Spencer said, unsure how a case could be distasteful. “I wish to help.”

Lord Hotchner gave a curt nod and they both left the office just as Miss Lewis and Dr. Banner were being shown in. While Spencer’s gaze was drawn to Darcy’s look of wide-eyed wonder at his home, he did not miss the dismissive expression that Lord Hotchner gave Dr. Banner as he left. 

“Spencer,” Darcy said so quietly he almost missed it. “This is too much.” She seemed to remember herself then, and said a bit louder, “Mr. Reid, I am pleased to see you this morning.”

He smiled at her. “I welcome you both to my home. Shall we go to the study to discuss business?” He looked up to order tea and was not surprised to see Mrs. Richards contemplating Miss Lewis. His housekeeper gave him a smile before heading off to get the tea.

He wanted to watch Darcy as she reacted to all the things she beheld while they walked down the hall, but settled for her lovely countenance upon entrance to his study. The room was small but not cramped. He liked that it felt cozy. There were three chairs including his own behind the desk. Darcy did not immediately take a seat, however. She took a moment to slowly spin around, taking in the room and its furnishings.

“You must spend a lot of time in here,” she said. “I can feel your personality pouring from the walls.”

“How so?” he asked, motioning for everyone to be seated.

“I can’t quite place it,” she said, “but this room is  _ you _ but in wall coverings and furnishings.” She sat in the chair. “I do hope I won’t be expected to stay out of this room in the future. I think I would rather enjoy sitting here when you are out because it reminds me so much of you.”

As she said the last bit, Mrs. Richards came in with the tea items, placing them on the small side table while giving him a sly look. If he wasn’t mistaken, Darcy had already started to gain his housekeeper’s trust.

“Of course not,” Spencer said, in answer to her unasked question. “This will be your home too, and you’ll be welcome in all of it.” Darcy immediately stood back up to serve the tea, but Spencer waved her away, determined to do it himself, as unconventional as that might be. Once everyone had their tea, he unlocked the drawer with the marriage documents. “My attorney will be here at noon,” he said, “which should give us plenty of time to discuss the terms and any changes we wish to make.” He slid the papers toward Darcy. “Take a look and tell me your thoughts.”

“I had not expected to get to read the papers,” she said, eagerly picking them up. “I thought I would just be given a summary.”

“Is that what you would prefer?” he asked.

“No,” she said quickly, her eyes already on the page. “I’d rather read for myself. Sometimes summaries do not do things justice.”

He said nothing as she was already absorbed in the papers. He chanced a look over at Dr. Banner who simply regarded Darcy with an indulgent smile. She read quickly, it seemed, for soon her head was shooting up. “You cannot mean to give me so much sir,” she said. “Should not this house belong to your estate and whomever you wish to bequeath it to? Perhaps a son, should we be so blessed?”

“No Darcy,” he said, his eyes shooting to Dr. Banner at his slip up. “It is to be for my intended so she will never have to worry about protection again.” He had not expected her tears at that, but reacted quickly, handing over his handkerchief. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, wiping her eyes. “It’s just that you are so generous.” He didn’t know what to say, so he simply let her dry her tears. She held onto the handkerchief, no doubt thinking something else might make her cry as she read on. When she moved to the page Dr. Banner had provided, he waited, curious what her reaction would be. He was not disappointed. Her head shot up and she stared at the man.

“ _ Uncle Bruce _ !” she cried. “What is this? I surely don’t have anywhere close to this sum of money to be settled upon me!”

Dr. Banner looked at her with kind eyes. “Your father had a feeling that his time might be limited,” he said slowly. Spencer watched as Darcy’s eyes opened wide. He wondered at her reaction. It was not the reaction of someone whose parent had been ill. “He asked me to sell one of his inventions in his place so it could not be traced back to him. I did as he requested, and the money sat in an account, awaiting your engagement.”

“I knew it was no accident,” she said softly. Dr. Banner took her hand and patted it. 

“He loved you very much, Darcy,” he said. “Which is also why he didn’t tell anyone about the money. He didn’t want fortune hunters coming for you, or worse, his enemies sliding in, looking like friends, just to get their hands on the money. He wanted you to be happy.”

Darcy nodded at this, crying anew, and Spencer filed away this information for later contemplation. When her tears were dry once more, he asked gently, “Are these terms acceptable to you, Miss Lewis?”

“They are more than generous,” she said with a bit of a laugh. “I would be a fool to say they weren’t.”

“That is a good thing indeed because the attorney is due any minute to witness us sign and make them accepted protocol.”

His timing was impeccable, as there was just then a knock on the door. It was just a few minutes work to sign the papers, making everything very official.

“Have you considered a date?” Dr. Banner asked.

Spencer turned to Darcy. “How long do you wish to wait?” he asked.

“I’d marry you tomorrow if it meant my mother would be done with taking me shopping already,” she said. “But, I am ready whenever suits you. I do have several items being made, with more to be ordered today, I’m certain. But that should mean no more than two weeks.”

“Perhaps we could have a moment to discuss it?” he asked Dr. Banner, implying that he wished to do so without the man present.

“Of course,” Dr. Banner said easily. “Perhaps one of your footmen can point me toward the library?”

Spencer quickly made the arrangements and then took the seat Dr. Banner had vacated next to Darcy.

“I know you will have to leave soon, and we will not have a proper tour of the house, but do you like what you have seen?”

“Very much so,” she said quickly. “You have a beautiful home.”

“Soon it will be yours as well,” he reminded her. “And I want you to feel that way, but we can speak more about that when you come to tour in a few days. Did you get Sir Rossi’s dinner invitation?”

“I did,” she said. “It finally got my mother to stifle her complaints.” Darcy looked down at her hands. “She had not been pleased with our engagement,” she said softly. “Though I think that has much to do with her not being able to select you. When she learned that Sir Rossi intended to throw an engagement dinner for us, she suddenly stopped her thinly veiled jabs.”

Spencer was annoyed at her mother’s reaction to their engagement. He had saved her from a life spent with Mr. Sitwell (though he did wonder if Dr. Banner would have been able to stop such a thing). Furthermore, he was respectable and well to do. Why did her mother dislike him as a choice so much? And that Darcy should have to sit and defend him day after day sounded exhausting. Of course theirs was not a society match, but even so. Her mother had to see how prudent such a match was and how advantageous it was to Darcy.

“Four weeks,” he said. “Is that enough time to do what you need? Can you stand living in her house for four more weeks?”

“I can,” she said.

“Good,” he said, happy to have a date set. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the small band and handing it to her. “This belonged to my mother. I would like you to have it.” Darcy took the thin band from him, looking at it carefully before sliding it onto her finger. 

“It’s beautiful,” she said, looking down at her hand and then up at him. “Thank you,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him quickly. She opened her reticule. “I have something for you as well. It’s not as exciting as a knife or as pretty as a ring, but I hope you will like it nonetheless.” She handed him a letter, which he took from her, placing it in his pocket. 

“I promise to read it as soon as you leave,” he said.

“Which unfortunately should be now,” she replied with a deep breath. “I am due to meet my mother for more shopping, though I would much rather spend the day in here with you, finally having a chance to get to know one another.”

“I would prefer that too,” he said.”But it seems neither of us is to have that wish fulfilled as I also have prior engagements that must be looked upon today.”

Darcy grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I am very happy it was you I found in the garden, Spencer,” she said before dropping his hand and standing. 

Minutes later she and Dr. Banner had been handed back into her carriage and were gone. He returned to his study and pulled out her letter, taking a moment to enjoy the feminine loop to her handwriting.

_ Dear Spencer, _

_ I confess I did not know where to begin when I first suggested that we could write to each other. It seems, though, that society and its rules will work to keep us from spending many moments alone, so there really isn’t time to get to know one another at all. I thought, perhaps, a letter might allow this. But first, let me tell you how undeniably happy you have made me in these last few days. When I thought about marriage, all I wanted was to be safe and unafraid, but you promise the possibility of more: actual happiness. As a young woman, I, of course, dreamed of love, but as I grew older, I understood my place in the world and mainly hoped my husband would not be cruel. You are so much more than I could have hoped…. _

He smiled at her words. He would court her through letters. This was something he could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Dresupi and HKThauer for all they have done to help me with this!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy has an eventful 24 hours. Please mind the updated tags.

Darcy collapsed into her bed. Her day had been very draining. She had seen her new home for the first time and learned she had a sizable dowry because her father had a feeling he was going to die, and, oh, that’s right,  _ her father’s accident probably had actually been a murder _ . And then she had to listen to her mother prattle on about sleeves and lace for a solid four hours. On top of all the rest, she then had to endure a supper party with Sir Pierce and Mr. Rumlow who were terrible conversationalists but seemed very keen on hearing all about her and Spencer. She had tried to push them off, but her mother insisted on Darcy sharing that he had invited her to view the contract before signing, and then, again, what the terms were (though she really balked at making those details public; it seemed mercenary). 

But, as tired as she was, her brain would not quiet. All she could think about was Spencer and the way he had sat next to her when they were alone; how he had looked at her like he could possibly learn to love her. And his choice, again and again, to provide for her so that she would be protected when he knew her so little; it made her nearly swoon. When she realized sleep would not come easily, she decided to sneak down to the library to find a book.

As she looked over the titles on the far wall, she was stunned to hear glass breaking in the very room she was in. She quickly reached for the knife Spencer had given her, suddenly thankful of the stupidly romantic choice to bring it with her while looking at books in her own house. She unsheathed it and held her breath, her eyes trained on the floor where broken glass glittered in the moonlight. She snuffed her candle just as a figure toppled into the room. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness, and she saw him pulling books from the shelves. She wondered that none of the servants had come running at the noise of the window breaking and the continued noise of the books being tossed to the floor. She decided that she better try to escape the room and alert someone. 

She had made it most of the way to the door when she hit a squeaking board and the man turned, noticing her. 

“Well what do we have here?” he asked, slinking toward her.

Darcy tried to scream, but her fear made it catch in her throat.

“You’re that lass that’s to be married, aren’t you?” he asked as he got closer. “I’m sure no one would mind if I had a little taste.”

He was close enough now that she thought she might be able to touch him. She waited a moment longer, to be sure, though. When he took another step and ran a finger over her arm, she thrust out with the hand gripping her knife, but her hand missed his flesh, cutting fabric only.

The man let out a growl and pushed his face close enough that she could smell his breath as he licked a stripe up her neck, causing her to try and break his grip which only grew tighter. He took advantage of her frantic state to press his mouth against hers. She pulled back with her knife and stabbed him in the shoulder, causing him to pull away from her some. Finally Darcy’s own fear allowed her to start screaming. The man snarled at her, lunging and tackling her to the ground, banging her head against the floor and momentarily stunning her, allowing him to press is mouth to her neck again before she came too enough to fight him again. She kicked and screamed; hitting him with her empty hand and slashing wildly with her knife. Whenever she made contact, he would tighten his grip on her arm, but she refused to let it stop her.  She kept fighting and yelling, desperately hoping someone was coming because there was no way she was going to fend him off now that he had her on the floor.

The door banged open, and soon several footmen were pulling him off of her, and she finally let herself realize what had happened. Robert, the senior male staff member knelt down beside her. “Are you well, Miss Lewis? I had Sophie call for the police. Should I also have her call a doctor?”

Darcy took huge gulps of air. “I...I think I am alright,” she finally said.

He gently took the knife from her hand. “You’re covered in blood that I’m hoping is his,” he said soothingly. “I think we better have a doctor check, just to be certain.” Darcy nodded at this. “Can you get up?” he asked, placing a hand under her elbow.

Her legs felt like jelly. “Not just yet,” she said as her mother came barreling into the room, screaming about her poor baby. Darcy allowed her mother to manhandle her into a chair, almost more hysterical at the entire ordeal than Darcy. For her part, Darcy didn’t feel even close to hysterics. In fact, she didn't even feel like anything had happened to her, she merely felt like a spectator to her own attack.

The rest of the evening happened in a haze. She explained to the officer what she had seen and done, and the doctor had examined her. She wasn’t sure just what he had determined, but he had given her something to sleep, and she had nearly panicked at the thought that she would be too drugged to fight back if someone should come after her again. She calmed some when Robert promised to stay outside her door while she slept, and Anna promised to keep watch inside.

When she awoke, it was Natasha who was sitting by her bed.

“Nat?” she asked, blinking her eyes and trying to sit up.

“Don’t sit up just yet,” she said. “You’re likely to still be sore.”

“I must look a fright,” Darcy said, slowly stretching and feeling the angry muscles all over her body.

“You look like you won,” Natasha said. She picked the knife up off her lap and looked at it. “I heard you stabbed the man several times.” She sheathed the knife. “I’m glad you had it, but why did you have a knife on you in the library in the middle of the night?”

Darcy felt her face flush. “It was an engagement gift,” she said. “My mind was full of him, and that’s why I couldn’t sleep, so I took it with me.”

Natasha nodded at this. “An unusual engagement gift,” she remarked, “but clearly useful. I approve.”

Darcy slowly started to sit up, aware of how much it would hurt, but wanting to nonetheless. “I’m glad you do because my mother does not. I want you to meet him. You always can tell so much about a person at just a glance that would take me years to learn.”

“I’ve been busy,” Natasha said, “but not so busy that I didn’t take some time to look into him.”

“And?” Darcy asked, still settling herself against the pillows, trying to get comfortable.

Natasha stood and helped her arrange them. “And I think you have done well for yourself,” she said. “He clearly is a much better suitor than I expected. It’s not just any man that would give a woman a knife of her own.”

Darcy laughed a little at this, but it cut off as the movement pained her. “How bad do I look?” she asked. “Last night I was a bit too addled to properly account for my injuries.”

“You shouldn’t leave your home for the next day or two,” Natasha said, “but it’s nothing that won’t sort itself, given time.”

Darcy accepted this. Natasha somehow always knew these things. “I’ve been rude. How was your time with Jane in Norway?”

“Eventful,” Natasha said with a sparkle in her eye. “Did she tell you how she met Prince Thor when our carriage struck him?”

Darcy gasped excitedly. “That is a story I want to hear!”

Natasha regaled her with stories of her time in Norway while Anna came in with some water to help her wash up a bit and dress. She was shocked to find that the water ran a bit pink and was sick to realize that it was likely the man’s blood still splattered on her from the night before. Darcy had orders to stay in bed, but the clean clothes and brushed hair made her feel much better than she had when she had first woken, though she felt the desire to scrub her skin raw when she remembered the weight of him and the way he had touched her. She first shivered and then yawned as she felt the draw of sleep again. Natasha kissed her forehead and promised to come back later with all the best gossip before slipping out of the room.

Without the drugs to keep her mind calm, her rest was more fitful than the last, and dreams of the man on top of her, holding her down to “have a taste,” left her tossing and whimpering as she slept. She awoke, alarmed to discover a hand holding hers.

“Darcy,” Spencer said. His voice just a choked whisper.

“Spencer?” she asked. “How are you here?”

“I came as soon as I heard what had happened and refused to leave until they would let me see you. I’m afraid I caused a bit of a scandal.”

She squeezed his hand. “I must be a terrible sort of person because I’m all too happy you are here to fear that.”

“I was so worried,” he said, running his thumb over her wrist. “And I didn’t even know until hours later when a visitor told me what had happened. Your mother didn’t even send me a message.” His voice was tight again. “I’d marry you, right now, at your bedside, if you’d let me so I could take you back to my house where you would be safe and protected.”

“My mother would never forgive me, though it does sound terribly romantic,” she said. “I must admit that a month seems too far now. I rather do like the idea of marrying sooner.” She pushed herself to sit up. “Your gift saved me, you know? Has that part of the story made its way out yet?”

“It has not,” he said. His small smile made her feel better.

“It’s true. In a fit of romantic folly, I had brought it with me to the library and used it against the intruder. It likely saved me from a very unkind fate he wished to bestow upon me.”

“He would have killed you?” Spencer asked, horrified. 

“No,” Darcy said with a small shake of her head. “I would have lived through what he planned. I believe he called it a ‘taste’.” She couldn’t help the quiver of revulsion that went through her as she said the words and recalled the way he had licked her and pressed his mouth against hers.

Spencer’s face went hard. “That  _ bastard _ ,” he said hoarsely. He turned back to Darcy. “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t here to protect you.”

“In the home of my mother? You would be here too?” She gave a small chuckle. “Spencer, you did what you could for me, and more, by being here now. It seems that I am forever in your debt for all you continue to do for me.”

Spencer pulled his hand to his lips and kissed it. She tried not to let the feel of it remind her of the man. She did not want to let him rob her of this. “Do not thank me for simply being an honorable man. It’s the least I can do.” He let go of her hand. “I need to go now. I’m dead set on an earlier wedding date, and there are arrangements to be made for it. I had to see for myself that you were well, however.”

“Thank you for coming, even if it caused a scandal.”

“It was my pleasure,” he said. “I also brought you this,” he said, handing her a letter. “Perhaps this will help pass the time while I am gone.”

She took it from him and smiled. “Thank you.”

He returned her smile and then made his way to the door, quickly letting himself out. She only had a moment to push the letter under her pillow before her mother came rushing on the room.

“That fiance of yours is certainly used to getting his own way,” she said immediately, taking the chair he had just vacated. “He’s rather like you in that. It will be nice to see you get some of your own medicine. He arrived all in a tizzy that I hadn’t sent him a message in the middle of the night about what happened! As if it had anything to do with him!” Her mother snorted. “I should have liked him better had he thanked me for not waking him up as though it were something important.”

“Mama,” she said patiently, “his last fiance died. I think, perhaps, he had a right to be worried that something similar was going to happen to him again.”

Her mother made a disgusted face at this. “He practically caused a scandal the way he came tearing in here with all his demands. I swear the staff is going to spread this like wildfire.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Darcy defended.

“You would,” her mother said unkindly. “You have no idea how easy it is to ruin a reputation.”

“Perhaps,” she said, “but is it not simple to twist this into a story of his unyielding devotion to me?”

“Marriages are for alliances, not love,” her mother declared. “It makes him look all the more foolish to be besotted with someone that brings so little to the marriage as you do.”

Darcy held her tongue, not wanting to mention the dowry to her mother. Instead, she said, “But that means it would have been just as imprudent a match for any of the other suitors I’ve had. If I bring nothing, then why let anyone court me at all? I don’t understand.”

Her mom pursed her lips. “I doubt you ever will,” was all she said. “The doctor said that you should rest all of today and possibly tomorrow, so we’ll need a new plan to complete our shopping.”

Darcy just nodded and let her mother prattle on. No need to tell her about the dowry or the accelerated wedding date. She was starting to understand why her father had insisted she not tell her mother about the notebook he gave her right before his death.

The thought made her pause. Is that what the man had been looking for? Why else go through the library when there was little of actual value there. Could he have been looking for her father’s notebook? She felt a sudden need to check that it was still in her hiding place. Instead, she tried to turn back to her mother’s words and focus on them. She couldn’t do anything now, but she certainly had a lot to contemplate.

Just when she thought she could take no more, her mother wrapped up her impressive monologue and said she would send up some food, ordering her to eat and rest so she could recover quickly. As soon as she was out the door, Darcy reached under her pillow for the letter Spencer had given her. She laughed a little at how his handwriting seemed to be both hurried and precise at the same time.

_ Dearest Darcy, _

_ Whenever we are apart, my mind swirls with things to tell you and ask you. When we’re together, it seems there is only time to deal with whatever is the most pressing which is never the most interesting. But now, with pen in hand, I find that my mind doesn’t know where to begin. All I can think about is how you looked the morning after our engagement, when I first entered your drawing room, and later that day how you looked so pleased with the ridiculous gift I had given you. I have been asked by several of my friends who wish to know what I was thinking and whether or not I can trust you and our engagement, but when I think back to that night in the garden and that morning in your drawing room, and that afternoon in my study, all I can think is that I don’t know what I was thinking, but I’m glad I did it because you are the right choice. I don’t know that our paths would have ever crossed in the normal, society fashion, but I find that doesn’t matter. You are a whirlwind that fell into my life, and I am a better man for it. I feel no shame in telling you that I do not yet love you, but I believe that someday I might, and that is more than many people in our situation and station can say. _

Darcy had to stop for a moment to remind herself to breathe. She hadn’t allowed herself to hope that he might return the feelings she knew she was developing, but here he was, saying there was a chance. How had that awful night led to something so wonderful?

_ It feels so much safer to tell you this in a letter. Perhaps that is because I do not have to see your face while you read it. Though, I do wonder how you’ll respond to such a declaration. Watching you read over the marriage contract papers was fascinating— the way your face would change as you reacted was mesmerizing. I do believe it might be enjoyable to watch you read a book. I wonder if we’ve read any of the same titles and have the same opinions on them. I should like to lend you one of my favorites from my library so we can discuss it. It would be a nice break from all the wedding discussions. (Not that wedding discussions are inherently uninteresting, just there is so much I’d rather discuss with you.) I find myself wishing we had enjoyed all those quiet moments in the library we have claimed we had. Perhaps we can have a standing appointment to meet in the library any time we go to a ball or party? Maybe we can make up for those lost moments. _

Darcy had to stop here because she heard movement in the hall, but she could be excused for the blush that overcame her as she considered how utterly sweet his idea was for them to meet in the library. She desperately hoped that she could convince him to fall in love with her because he was rapidly pushing her over that cliff whether he was trying to or not. She hid the letter under her pillow again as the door opened to admit, of all people, Miss Garcia.

“Miss Garcia?” Darcy asked, surprise coloring her tone.

“Not who you were expecting, I’m sure,” she said with a bubbly laugh. “But here all the same.”

“I’m surprised, but pleasantly so,” Darcy said. “I’m sorry I can’t properly greet you, but I can ring for tea.”

“I won’t keep you long,” the woman promised. “Reid asked me to call on you. He thought you might need a break from— “ she stopped and looked at the door before whispering, “your mother.” She returned to normal volume. “I also called on your friend Jane before coming over, she’s lovely, by the way, and she promised to be by either later today or tomorrow. She’s been dealing with her own onslaught of callers who want to try and understand how she snagged a real-life prince.”

Darcy laughed at this description, but her chest still ached at the stretch of the muscles, and it quickly turned to a groan.

“Careful there,” Miss Garcia said, looking at her with concern. “Not to be rude, but you aren’t looking your best. I mean, you look amazing for someone who fought off a burglar, but you’re very bruised and pale.”

“You know,” Darcy said, “I have yet to figure out where all I am bruised and what exactly my injuries are? Last night I was too caught up in it to really understand the physician.”

“Reid told me you stabbed the man with a knife he gave you. Is that true? I promise to tell you about every injury I can see if you tell me.”

“I like you, Miss Garcia.”

“Penelope,” she said. “Please. I think we are going to be great friends.”

“Then you must call me Darcy, Penelope,” she said with a smile. “And it’s all true. He really did give me a beautiful knife as an engagement gift, and I really did take it to the library with me because I’m a romantic fool, and yes, I stabbed the man with it when he attacked me. I should probably feel worse about that, but he was not a nice man and had some very not nice intentions.”

Penelope sighed. “I want to stab a man,” she said wistfully. “I can think of a few that deserve it.”

Darcy chuckled. “I like you very much indeed, Penelope.”

“My turn,” she said, turning a critical eye to Darcy. “There’s bruising on your arms, which I’m sure you can already see. There’s a small cut on your head and some light bruising on your face. I’m sure by tomorrow some powder will be all you need to hide it. And, while I can’t see the rest of your body, you seem to be moving very stiffly, so there are probably some more bruises there. All in all, you look perfect because you  _ stabbed a man _ . Have I mentioned that I wish I could do that?”

“Men are cabbage,” Darcy said.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s just something Jane said once, on accident. I honestly don’t know what she did mean to say, but it’s somewhat fitting and I find myself saying it often now.”

“Men are cabbage,” Penelope said, trying it out herself. “I absolutely agree.”

“I confess to liking some cabbage,” Darcy said.

Penelope smiled. “I’m glad to hear that. I think some cabbage might like you as well.”

“But what about you? Is there any decent cabbage for you?”

Penelope considered this. “I’d like to think so,” she finally said. “There is one that I find myself fond of, but I do not think he feels the same way.”

Darcy made a face. “Stupid cabbage,” she declared. “They should all be falling over themselves for you.”

Penelope’s eyes smiled at this. “When you are better we are going to have such fun together.”

The tea was delivered, and they spent an enjoyable hour talking. Darcy was pleased to find that Penelope knew all the gossip, no matter how minute. She was practically a walking book on everyone. She found herself pleased that they were friends because she had no doubt that her knowledge could be a weapon should she so chose. She was also grateful for the distraction because she was sure thoughts of the previous night would haunt her for days to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Dresupi who has helped a LOT with my wording to make it more time period appropriate!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer meets with many people and shows Darcy her soon-to-be home.

Spencer ignored Darcy’s mother as he left her room. He hadn’t imagined the way she had been upset remembering the previous night, nor the way she had stiffened just a bit when he had kissed her hand. He’d wager that the man had been at least marginally successful in his nefarious plans, and he was angry beyond words that she should have been hurt so. And the very audacity of her mother to think nothing of Darcy being attacked in her own home! And that she should think he wouldn’t want to know! He couldn’t speak to the woman for fear he would say something he could not take back (no matter how much he might well and truly mean it).

He immediately pointed his carriage to Lord Rossi’s house. The man had been his mentor for the past several years, and he found he could use a little guidance right now on the best course of action. It was not long before he was being announced. He was surprised to find Jennifer and her husband Will already in the drawing room along with Penelope.

“Spencer!” Jennifer said with much delight. “We were just talking about your engagement ball. I was telling the gentlemen how much I like your Miss Lewis.”

“And I was affirming her good taste,” Penelope said with a wide smile.

“You have not heard, then?”

Jennifer’s face fell. “Heard what?”

“Last night, someone snuck into her home. She was, unfortunately, in the same room at the time and was attacked.” 

Jennifer and Penelope gasped while the men let out surprised sounds. “Was she harmed?" Penelope asked, seemingly afraid of the answer.

Spencer pursed his lips, trying to keep his own emotions at bay before saying, “Yes. She appeared to be bruised when I saw her this morning as well as having suffered a small cut upon her head. She also seemed sore and stiff.”

“When you saw her?” Will asked. “Was she receiving visitors?”

“Of course not,” Spencer said immediately. “But do you really think I wouldn’t go to see her after such a report?”

“You went to her bedside,” Sir Rossi said. It was not a question.

“She was able to fight the man with, of all things, my engagement gift.” At their perplexed looks he admitted, “I presented her with a knife.”

Jennifer burst out laughing. “Only you, Spencer, would think  _ that _ a good gift.”

“He wasn’t wrong though,” Will pointed out. “She apparently found a use for it.”

Spencer wanted to ask about his suspicions that the man had done more to her than just manhandle her, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Even though he trusted his friends implicitly, he worried that it would get out and ruin her.

Will stood, offering his hand to his wife. “We should really  get going, but it was nice to see you Reid. I do hope to meet your betrothed soon. She sounds like a spitfire and we wish her a speedy recovery.”

“She is,” he said with a smile, making his goodbyes to them. He turned to Penelope. “I know that you are out making calls, but could you call on Miss Lewis as well? Her mother does not seem to have much compassion for what she has gone through.”

“Of course,” Penelope said at once. “I am off to see Miss Foster, and then I shall call upon her.”

“Thank you,” he said earnestly.

Once Penelope had gone, Rossi turned to him. “Let’s go to my study. You seem like a man here with a purpose and not just to visit.” Once they were in the study with the door firmly closed, Rossi said, “You did not tell us the full story of what happened, did you?”

“I did not,” he admitted. “I, myself, learned of the attack from a delivery boy who told my cook who knew that was the name of my fiancee and alerted me.”

“You were not sent a message?” Rossi asked, seemingly surprised by this.

“No. And I was treated as ridiculous for showing up and demanding to know what had happened. I must confess, I bullied my way to her bedside because I did not trust that I had been told the full truth and wanted to see her for myself.”

Rossi thought about this for a moment. “There’s something more,” he finally said, looking at Spencer. “This is concerning in and of itself, but there was something more you held back in the parlor.”

Spencer contemplated what he was about to say. “There is only the idea that there was something more. Miss Lewis did not confide in me, and I do not feel right speculating until I hear it from her.”

“Ahh,” Rossi said. “You believe the man did more than  _ attack _ her.” When Spencer had started to protest, Rossi cut him off. “I understand your concern both for the truth and the privacy of the matter. No need to worry. I will not be sharing your suspicions with anyone. But that does give me a better picture of why you are here.”

“I mean to move up the wedding,” Spencer said resolutely. “I do not trust her safety in her mother’s house.”

Rossi nodded at this. “You seem very invested in Miss Lewis’s well-being.”

“She is my fiance,” Spencer said, confused. “Of course I am.”

“She is a woman you have known for a week that you became engaged to after a half-hour’s conversation. Most men would be bristling at the idea of their hand being forced, they might even rejoice in the opportunity to take even a suspicion such as yours as a reason to break off the engagement.”

“And ruin her?” Spencer asked, disgusted. “Have her married off to a common criminal because he overpowered her?”

“Not all men are like you,” was all Rossi said. Then, more gently, he added, “You have feelings for this woman?”

Spencer sat for a moment, unsure how to respond. “I feel something,” he admitted. “But I do not believe it can be love when we know so little of each other.”

“Do you think you might come to regret the match?”

Spencer shook his head in the negative. "No, she is educated and witty. If nothing else, I believe we can be good friends, which is better than some matches my friends have made.”

Rossi nodded his head. “So, as a friend, you are concerned about her well-being should she stay in her mother’s home, even for a few more weeks.”

“Well, yes,” Spencer said, wondering at the way Rossi stated it, like he was missing something.

“I will help you,” Rossi said, pulling out some stationary. “Let’s discuss your timeline….”

Spencer walked out of Rossi’s house feeling much better than he had when he had entered. There was still much to do, but he always felt better when he had a plan to follow. He ran several errands before returning to his townhouse. He was surprised to find both Lord Hotchner and Lady Prentiss waiting for him in his study. After being assured by his staff they had not been waiting long, he hurriedly made his way to the room, expressing that they were not to be disturbed. He made his apologies to the awaiting parties, and they all sat. 

“You wanted to be read in, so I have brought Prentiss to share what she has learned. But, before she does, are you sure that you want to know?”

“Of course,” Spencer said, shifting around his thoughts so he would not be distracted while they talked.  “Please, I want to help.”

Hotchner nodded at Prentiss who began to speak. “I’ve spent the last several days tracking leads related to the series of messages you’ve been decoding. What we know is that there exists a group calling itself Hydra that is operating under its own interests and against the crown. The group has been working for the past year on uncovering a thing of great import, which, thanks to you,  _ we  _ now know to be a notebook.  _ They _ believe it was hidden when the notebook’s author decided they no longer wanted to be privy to Hydra’s plans. They have a location for the book, but not an exact one. They think it is hidden in a house in town. Unfortunately, we don’t know which house.”

“Do we know the name of the defector?”

“We do not,” Hotchner said, looking at Prentiss, “but we have the names of several people that might be working for them.”

Prentiss looked at him point blank. “Dr. Banner has been implicated.”

Spencer took a moment to consider this. “You think this affects Miss Lewis because he is her guardian.”

“It is possible she was acting under his suggestion to find you and trap you in marriage,” Hotchner said. “It would grant her, and by extension, him, access to your home.”

“But, no one knows what I do,” Spencer said, perplexed. “This seems far-fetched.”

“We  _ think _ no one knows what you do,” Prentiss said gently. “But just as we are unraveling their web, they might be learning ours as well.”

Spencer sat quietly considering this. Could Miss Lewis have actually been conspiring against him all along?

“The attack on her last night was Hydra-related,” Hotchner added. “We don’t know who ordered it, but it seems convenient that you are now rushing to get her out of her house and into your own.”

Spencer didn’t bother asking how he knew that. Hotchner somehow always knew everything. Instead, Spencer looked to Prentiss. “What do  _ you _ think?” he asked her.

She did not answer him directly. “I met her,” she conceded. “The night of your engagement, I made a point of speaking with her to get a read on her. She seemed more collected than I would have expected for the manner in which I confronted her. However, she seemed like a genuine person. Her revulsion at Sitwell was real and true.”

“That’s not much of an answer,” Spencer pointed out.

Prentiss shrugged. “That is my answer, whether you like it or not.”

“We want you to go ahead with whatever your plans are,” Hotchner said. “You’ve already started them. It would be suspicious if you did not. Once she is here, you will be able to watch her more closely and determine what she knows.”

“If anything,” Spencer said. “She might be innocent in all of this.”

“She could be,” Prentiss agreed. “But you need to prepare yourself as though she were not.”

“I know you are in the midst of planning your nuptials, but I still expect you to do your duty to your country,” Hotchner said tersely, before rising. “I will be in touch.”

Prentiss stayed seated, waiting for the door to close once more, leaving them alone. “She’s a very engaging and accomplished lady,” she said. “I want to like her, and I want her to be true for you. But, right this moment, you need to be thinking with your head and not your heart. Prepare yourself for what that might be, Spencer.” With that she stood, bringing Spencer quickly to his feet as she swept out of the room. 

As soon as she was gone he slumped back into his chair. Was it possible that Darcy was scheming against him? When had he  _ ever _ gotten so carried away with a woman? His courtship with Maeve had lasted several months, and even then he had been so uncertain he was doing the right thing, that he was acting on the right feelings. But less than a week with Miss Lewis, and he was wondering if he was in love. Was she some sort of trained temptress? Had she been plotting this from the very beginning? By being everything he would ever desire and providing him with a chance to be everything he desired to  _ be _ ? She had allowed him to play the hero, but was it just an act? His heart rebelled against the thoughts, but his mind wasn’t so sure. 

Even though he was conflicted, he wasn’t sure what to do about it besides follow Hotch’s orders. He would go ahead with the accelerated wedding and hope he didn’t show his own, new, reservations.

The following week passed in a blur. He had wedding preparations to make, a new message to decode, and several visits to Darcy as well. He found it easy to slip back into their normal, playful banter. While he knew he shouldn’t trust her until he knew more, he found it very difficult to be suspicious of her. It was with this confusion weighing on him that he welcomed Darcy and Dr. Banner into his home so she could take a tour and meet the staff.

When Darcy stepped into the foyer, his breath caught. Her face was rosy from the wind and her skin shone against the green material of her dress. He was struck by how  _ right _ she looked in his home. She smiled and thanked the doorman, and he had to remind himself that this was about to be her home too. He tried to convince himself that he was simply happy that she was fitting into the household and not that she was there with him. It was a losing battle.

He realized he was staring and quickly welcomed his guests.

“While I am certain Darcy is excited to view the entirety of your home, the only room  _ I _ am interested in is the library,” Dr. Banner said. “Would you mind showing us there first?”

Darcy blushed at his blatency. Spencer first thought it kind, but then considered what Prentiss had told him about how Dr. Banner had been implicated in her research, and suddenly Spencer wondered if this was a ploy to do some prying while no one was watching. He’d have a discrete word with one of the men to keep a watch on Dr. Banner while Spencer showed Darcy around. He opened the door to the library, and immediately Darcy went to the shelves, looking at the titles. He appreciated how her fingers ghosted, yet never touched the spines as though mimicking a caress.

“I see several titles I’ve been wanting to read,” she said, still examining the books while she spoke. “I have not been able to buy many new books since my father passed.” Her voice caught a little at the end, making him think about how difficult it would be to talk about his own mother when she passed.

“You’re welcome to borrow one,” he said, unsure if it would make her feel better or worse.

“Thank you,” she said, turning to face him, “but I think I want to save it as a special treat when I am finally here with you.”

He couldn’t argue with that, so instead, he offered her his arm and asked Dr. Banner once more if he wished to join them. He was already settling into a chair with a book, so they promised to return soon.

“Don’t hurry on my account,” he said, his eyes still on the page in front of him.

As they exited the library, he introduced her to the footman and had a quiet word with him before leading her to the next room. 

As they toured each room, he enjoyed their banter, hearing her thoughts and opinions on a variety of topics. He especially delighted in how kind she was to each staff member she met, clearly making an attempt to learn all their names, though he was sure she never would with such limited contact. 

He had saved her future quarters for last, nervous what she would think of the rooms. Mrs. Richards met them there. When he introduced them, it became clear that Darcy was thinking of something else and not paying attention. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking about, but he was very focused on the way her fingers were running light circles on his arm, though he did not think she was aware she was doing it. 

“Miss Lewis?” he said. “This is Mrs. Richards, the housekeeper.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said, blushing. “You caught me woolgathering. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He was surprised to see the typically curt woman offer Darcy a somewhat indulgent smile. “That’s okay, miss.” Opening the door to the Lady’s quarters she added, “I just wanted to show this room myself. The staff and I took great care to prepare this room especially for you, and I fancied your opinion before I ordered any changes.”

Spencer let go of her arm so she could step into the room. He followed behind her and was surprised at the small gasp she let out as she took it in. He had not been in the room in many months, and so, he tried to see it from her eyes. What could make her gasp like that?

“Is it not acceptable?” Spencer asked, worried, next to her as he noticed her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“It’s perfect,” she said in a hoarse whisper. “It’s so much more than I deserve. How are you always making reality better than the dream?” 

He gently pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. “Does that mean there is nothing you would like to change?” he teased, trying to lighten the mood. Her happiness was starting to make him emotional. His mother had decorated the room back when it was meant for Miss Donovan, but Maeve had never had a chance to see it. He wanted to remember Darcy’s reaction so he could describe it when he wrote to her next.

“Nothing at all,” she said, drying her tears and pulling away and turning to Mrs. Richards. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Richards. The staff did a wonderful job. Please convey my sincere thanks for how beautiful this room is.” She looked back at Spencer. “I’m sorry for getting your jacket wet.”

“It’s nothing,” he said, offering her his arm again. “Shall we finish?” Mrs. Richards was looking at Darcy, and he could see her forming an opinion as she did so. He shot her a questioning glance, but she only gave a small shrug. He would have to speak with her later to get her thoughts.

There wasn't much left to see after the Lady’s quarters, so Spencer was soon leading Darcy back to the library. The footman gave a subtle nod to let him know that Dr. Banner had never left the library as they entered.

"Did you have fun, Darcy?" Dr. Banner asked.

"The house is beautiful, Bruce. And Mr. Reid is excellent at describing the furnishings and history. And everyone was so kind. I believe I shall like it here very well indeed."

"Did you really fancy leaving your mother's house so ardently?" Dr. Banner asked, and Spencer found himself wondering her answer. He had not given her any more details about the accelerated wedding date, simply that he was diligently working on it.

"I know you mean to trick me into being unkind," Darcy said with a sparkle in her eye before sobering a bit, "but I confess that being in the library there is difficult for me now, which is a shame as it used to be my favorite room. I do not have such a problem in this library."

Try as he might, he couldn't forget the way she had looked a week ago, pale and bruised in her bed as a nightmare ravaged her. That some man had made her feel unsafe in her home and had ruined her favorite room (which happened to be his as well). It all just made him believe even more fervently that he was doing the right thing. "I hope no such trouble finds you in this room," he said, aware he might have been silent for a touch too long. "For it is my favorite room and I'd hoped we would be able to enjoy countless evenings here together. I was not teasing when I said it might be interesting to watch as you read a book as your face is always so expressive."

She blushed at his compliment, and while he should have been embarrassed to have mentioned it in front of her chaparone, he did not feel ashamed that Dr. Banner had heard the comment.

"We should be going," Dr. Banner said, standing. “I know that Miss Foster is planning to join Darcy this afternoon so they might dress for the ball together.  We really should be on our way."

"I look forward to seeing you both again tonight," he said, escorting them back to the door. When the door shut, he was not surprised to see Mr. Johns and Mrs. Richards waiting for him. "Shall we go to my study?" he said, turning and expecting them to follow. When the door was shut, he asked, "Well?"

"Everything is set," his valet said. "I saw to the final preparations myself. Sir Rossi wished that I convey to you his pleasure at hosting this evening."

"Good," Spencer said, a small weight lifting now that he knew everything was ready for the ball. He turned his attention expectantly to Mrs. Richards. She pulled out the accounts book and he scowled at her. "You know that's not what I was asking for right this moment."

She smiled. "She's a sweet lady," Mrs. Richards said. "Seems like maybe she hasn't had a lot of kindness recently, 'specially not with the way she teared up over her room. I think she'll settle in just fine."

This relieved him more than he realized it would. Mrs. Richards was good at reading people. She had done well with hiring (and firing) the staff. She seemed to know when a servant that had good references wasn't actually going to work, and he nearly  _ always _ later heard about them being dismissed from elsewhere. Her opinion held weight with him. 

"Very good," he said, sitting more comfortably. "Now let's take a look at the accounts."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sir Rossi's ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have had a really stressful week. I hope yours was better!

"Seriously, though, how nice was it?" Jane asked as Anna worked on her hair. "He looks like one of those men who doesn't know how to decorate."

Darcy laughed at this observation. "It was rather nice. Or, I liked it anyway. And the furnishings are somewhat more masculine, but they were not bad by any means. But  _ my rooms _ ," Darcy paused and thought about them again, "Jane, it was the most lovely space. The fabrics were all cream and peach and this color that was a light red that wasn't quite pink? I don't know how to describe it. It felt tranquil and warm like the sun on a Spring day. And there were fresh flowers in the room. I could just imagine myself living there. It was so different from the deeper, richer tones of the rest of the house, but it felt like someone had reached into my mind and pulled out exactly what I would want even though I had no idea what I was hoping for."

Jane reclined a bit on the settee. "I think he could have made the entire room puce and you would say nice things about it because you want so desperately to please him," Jane teased. "I can see it now-- you'd walk in and there would be carpet on the walls and you'd say, 'I quite like this unusual touch. It feels so exotic.'"

If Jane's hair had not already been done, Darcy would have thrown a pillow at her head. Instead, she simply made the motion, knowing Jane would understand. "I am not ' _ desperate to please him _ ,'" she griped. "But even if I was, would that be so wrong?"

"I  _ knew _ you were desperate," Jane said, laughing. She sobered a bit. "I know you think that he's doing you a favor by marrying you, but have you considered what all you bring to him?"

"I have not because I don't know what that might be," she admitted. She hated that she felt like there was nothing Spencer gained by marrying her. Of course, there was the secret dowry, but they had not discussed making that public. Furthermore, that was not something he knew before he had proposed. (Though there hadn't really been time to inform him of much of anything with them being found like they were.)

"Darcy," Jane said softly, coming to her side, "you will bring light and happiness to his home. You are excellent at navigating social situations and are skilled in all that is required to run a house. You've practically been running your own since your father died. You and he also get on remarkably well from what I've seen of you together, so it's not as though you are forcing him into a barely tolerable marriage." Jane crouched next to Darcy, expertly sweeping her skirt so it would not wrinkle. "Besides, has he not been attentive? Sending you letters? Giving you ridiculous gifts that you adore?" Jane raised an eyebrow. "I think he might need you just as much as you need him, though it's unclear if he's realized it yet."

“Now who’s being a romantic fool?” Darcy asked lightly, though she was sincerely touched by Jane’s words.

“I’m going to miss you so much when I am in Norway,” Jane said. “It’s the worst part of marrying a Prince.”

“I’m going to miss you too,” Darcy admitted. “But I shall spend all my pin money on stationary and you shall never want for letters. You’ll probably get tired of them and have your royal staff burn them so you don’t have to deal with them.”

“I would never,” Jane said, solemnly. “I shall miss you too much to do anything but hold every letter dear.” Jane stood and wandered back toward the bed, sitting softly on it.

“There, miss,” Anna said. “All done. If he isn’t already in love with you, there’s no way he won’t be after seeing you in this.”

Darcy was wearing a deep blue gown with accents of ice blue and silver that promised to sparkle in the candlelight. Anna had taken great care with her hair, and she was wearing combs Natasha had given her that were sharp enough to stab a man. (“Since you seem good at it,” she said with a shrug.) Her necklace was one her father had gifted her on her fifteenth birthday. It had a variety of stones in it, and Darcy thought it looked like the night sky with all its tiny points of reflection. It always reminded her of Jane. 

“You’ve done a marvelous job, Anna,” Darcy said. “Thank you for making me beautiful tonight.”

“You have to be the brightest beauty at your engagement ball,” Anna said smartly. “I couldn’t stand to show my face if you weren’t.” Darcy smiled at her and Anna left the two friends alone.

“Are you ready?” Jane asked.

“Well I’m certainly dressed,” Darcy quipped. “But I suppose I am as ready as I can be. I have you by my side, so I think the night will go very well.”

The women smiled at each other and linked arms as they went to see if the carriage was ready.

Darcy knew which house was Sir Rossi’s, but the interior was more than she could have imagined from just knowing what the exterior looked like. Everything screamed old money. She wondered how Spencer had met the man and how they had become such good friends. She’d have to ask him. As extravagant as the space was, she only had eyes for Spencer when she spotted him. He was wearing a fine emerald coat that was a nice complement to her dress. They would rather look like jewels next to one another. His hair had been carefully arranged to look like it had naturally found itself like it was, and she giggled to herself at the thought of his valet trying to get him to sit still so he could do his hair. She was vaguely aware her mother had left her to speak with a friend.

“What’s so humorous this evening, Darcy?” he asked, his voice a soft whisper in her ear that sent shivers down her spine.

“I was just imagining your valet trying to make you sit still to do your hair,” she admitted. When he blushed at that, she asked, “Have I been too forward in revealing my true thoughts?”

“Tell me first if you like it.”

“I like it very much indeed. You look exceptionally well tonight, Spencer.” She said his name like she could caress it, trying to impart just how much she liked what she saw.

His cheeks turned pink again, and he said, “Then I will have to tell Mr. Johns that his efforts were appreciated, and I may owe him an apology. If you like it that much, I shall endeavor to do so whenever you please.”

“That will not do!” she laughed. “I would not have your valet hating me because I wish you to submit to grooming you dislike. Instead, I shall declare that I like you very much how you always are, and that any additional troubles he takes on with you are appreciated but not necessary.”

He smiled at her. “Already working behind my back to convert my staff to your side, I see.”

“How else am I to run your house efficiently?” she asked archly.

“Our house,” he corrected. “Very soon it shall be our house.”

“I believe an introduction is in order,” a new voice said behind her. She turned to see Sir Rossi, whom she had never formally met.

“Sir Rossi, this is Miss Lewis, my fiancee,” Spencer said. “Miss Lewis, this is Sir Rossi. He has been my friend and mentor for the past several years.”

“I must confess to being very curious how you two met,” she said. “I’m sure it is something dreadfully boring like at your club, but I shall hold out hope for something more exciting.”

“Perhaps we should just let you imagine our meeting, then,” Sir Rossi said. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”

“I think you’re trying to trick me into believing it was boring,” she said, playing along. “Now I’m certain it was something out of the ordinary. Did you two perhaps thwart a kidnapping together? I’m sure that the real story must make you both out to be heroes.”

The men laughed. “Close, Miss Lewis,” Sir Rossi said with a wink. “Close, but not quite. I think I like your guessing too much to tell you the truth.”

“But you would tell me if I guessed correctly?” she pressed.

“I would,” he agreed. 

“Then I shall keep guessing,” she promised, turning to Spencer. “I like your friend very well indeed.”

“That is a relief, ma’am,” he said with mock seriousness, “for I wasn’t sure how to finish the ball if you did not.”

Sir Rossi excused himself to see to some other guests, and Spencer started to lead her back to Jane. “I hate to leave you, but I have a few things to see to as well,” he said.

“I understand,” she said, though she was loathe to leave his company again. “And I see you understand me well enough to take me to Jane’s side instead of my mother’s. You are a clever man, Spencer Reid.”

“Perhaps I just like to see you smile and know you do it more with your friend than your family,” he said as they came to a stop in front of Jane and Prince Thor.

“Miss Darcy, you look radiant this evening,” the prince said to her. “Being in love suits you.”

Darcy blushed a deep red. “That is better than not suiting me,” she finally said. “For that would be a tragedy indeed.”

“Indeed,” Prince Thor agreed, apparently unaware that he had embarrassed her.

“I will find you in time for the first dance,” Spencer said before taking off.

“You love him,” Jane said once he was no longer in earshot. “I saw you flirting with him when you were talking to Sir Rossi.”

“Just because I was flirting does not mean I am in love,” she said, but the protest sounded weak to her own ears. “Though I suppose you should be well acquainted enough with the signs since you are very much in love, yourself.”

This time Jane blushed. “Love suits her well, too,” Prince Thor said, looking down at Jane with a soft smile.

“I agree,” Darcy said. “And I think you two will do very well together.”

Darcy would have said more, but it was then her mother found her. “Darcy!” she said, her voice a little louder than necessary, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“We came in the same carriage,” Darcy said, a bit exasperated. “You were present when Mr. Reid sought me out to introduce me to the host.”

“And I’ve been looking for you since.” Darcy frowned at her mother’s dramatics. “He should have deposited you back with me if he was going to abandon you so soon.”

“He didn’t  _ abandon _ her,” Jane said. Darcy was grateful for her interference because she wasn’t in the mood to deal with her mother’s unpredictable emotions. “He left her with us while he went to deal with some last minute details.” Jane looked up at Thor. “I do think leaving her with a Prince was an intentional choice.”

This shut her mother up for only a moment. “I’ve heard he’s not a very sociable man,” she went on. 

“I am aware, mother,” she said. “I met him in a library during a ball.”

“He’s going to put you in that house and lock you away and no one will ever see you again.”

Jane snorted. “Has anyone ever been able to make Darcy do something she didn’t want to do? If we never see her again, it will be her choice, not her husband’s.”

Her mom glared daggers at Jane. “I am  _ trying _ to say that I don’t think they suit.”

“It’s a little late for that,” Darcy said, looking at her mother quizzically. “The wedding is in a few weeks.”

“I’ve been speaking with Sir Pierce,” she said. “And he thinks there might be a way that you do not need to marry him at all. It would not be the most  _ conventional _ route to marriage, but it might allow you to be with someone more suitable.”

Darcy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Mother, I am promised to Mr. Reid. I have no intention of changing that.” She looked over at Jane whose face looked like Darcy thought hers must as well.

“So stubborn,” her mother spit out. “You never do as you’re told.”

She needed to get out of here. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I am not discussing this now,” she said, looking beyond her mother into the crowd. “I see Sir Rossi waving me over. I need to attend to that.” With that, she moved away from her mother, feeling bad for abandoning Jane, but certain her friend would understand. Sir Rossi was, of course, not waving at her, so she did the only thing she could think of— she slid out of the room and down a hall, asking to be pointed to the library. Hopefully there she would be able to take a moment to compose herself before heading back to the ballroom. As soon as she entered the room, she collapsed into the first chair she found and let herself be mad.

“Darcy?” she heard behind her, startling her.

“Spencer?” she said, her brain catching up with her ears.

“I confess that I had hoped you would join me here sometime tonight, but I had not wanted you to be upset. What happened?” He came and crouched near her chair.

“My mother,” she said, letting out an annoyed breath. “She had the audacity to approach me at my engagement ball to say she had some plan to help me ‘out of’ this engagement like that was something I would want.” She took a moment to calm herself again. “I don’t want out of this engagement. I wish we were married already so I never had to go back to her house and listen to her be so hurtful.”

“Do you really, or are you just saying that?”

“I mean it,” she said, looking him in the eye.

“In that case, perhaps now is a good time to tell you I have a special license and pastor on standby if you wish to marry tonight.”

Darcy threw her arms around his neck. “Yes. A thousand times yes.” She gave him a curious look. “Did you always plan to ask me to marry you tonight? Having a pastor and license ready is somewhat suspicious.”

He looked a little guilty. “I had, yes,” he admitted. “After seeing you the morning after the attack, I promised that I would find a way to move up the wedding. Sir Rossi helped me arrange everything so that we could do so whenever we wanted. I was going to tell you tonight. I was hopeful you would agree to tonight, but also was ready for whenever you might want to set the date.”

She smiled so widely it hurt. “You are truly the best fiance I could have asked for.”

It took a moment for him to stop smiling back at her and ask, “How soon would you like the ceremony to happen?”

“Here and now,” she said, determined. “Besides, is it not fitting if we were to be married exactly how we met?”

He laughed. “You are correct, of course.” He stood. “I will send the footman to summon the pastor. I would like Sir Rossi to witness. Is there anyone you would like?”

“Jane and Prince Thor,” Darcy said immediately. “They were defending me to my mother, and Jane is like a sister to me.”

He nodded and quickly went to the door, coming back moments later, sitting in the chair next to her.

“You’ll come home with me tonight?” She thought he sounded hopeful.

“Of course I will,” she said. “Why wouldn’t I want to go home to our house once we are married?”

He looked relieved. “I will send my valet to your home with a letter from you to your maid so your things can be packed and brought to the house,” he said immediately. “How quickly can she pack?”

Darcy smiled at his eagerness to get her from her mother’s house. “If your valet is willing to help, just two hours, I would think. I had already begun to pack in preparation for the anticipated date. Tomorrow I can send word to the shops to have any remaining items sent to your— our— house.”

“Then you’d best write a letter,” he said, walking over to a desk on the far wall of the library.

Darcy took a seat at the desk and quickly penned the letter. She didn’t want to divulge her secret hiding spot, but she wasn’t sure how else she would be able to get the items therein if she did not. Anna had been her maid for many years, and she trusted her, but she hoped the woman would not snoop. Her diary was also in the hiding spot, and she would hate to have some of her personal thoughts invaded. She would just have to continue to trust her maid.

As she finished writing her letter, Sir Rossi was announced, bringing the pastor with him. “We must hurry,” he said without preamble. “People have started to mark your absence, Miss Lewis. I have put them off by saying I had asked you to see to something for me, but it will not hold long.”

As he finished speaking, Jane and Prince Thor were shown in. “Are you alright?” Jane asked, running to her side and hugging her. “We were so worried when we were told you needed us in the library.”

“Much better now,” she said, releasing Jane. “I asked you to come to witness my marriage.”

Jane gave an excited gasp and hugged her once again. “I’m so happy. I was just trying to figure out how to keep you from your unfeeling mother’s clutches tonight, and you have gone and done it yourself.”

“Actually, that was all Mr. Reid,” she said, turning a smile to him. “He thought of everything, including the pastor and license.”

“We really must begin now,” Sir Rossi said, guiding her and Spencer over to stand by the priest before joining Jane and Prince Thor.

The ceremony was short, but she felt so different by the time it was over. She was  _ married _ . To  _ Spencer _ . And she never had to go back to her mother’s house. It was more than a bit overwhelming.

Spencer had given her a sweet, chaste kiss at the end of the ceremony, and she had found she wanted to try that again. Never having kissed a man before, she thought it had much potential. She couldn’t help the internal cringe that went through her, though, when she thought about the only other pair of lips that had ever been on hers.

“Let us go announce the good news,” Sir Rossi said, heading toward the door. “I think our guests have been waiting long enough.

“Let’s,” Darcy agreed, taking Spencer’s hand and feeling like a huge burden had been lifted from her shoulders.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second part of Sir Rossi's ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, many thanks to HKThauer for being an amazing cheerleader who kept encouraging me to keep going and to Dresupi who provided important critique to help make this story more period appropriate.
> 
> This week was really hard on me (my grandfather was moved into hospice, and I learned my dog has bone cancer), so thanks in advance for adding a little sunshine to my week by reading.

Spencer had felt his breath catch when he saw Darcy enter the room. Her dress and hair were exceptionally fine, and he had no doubt that everyone would envy him tonight. He couldn’t stop staring at her as he made her way to her, bowing to her mother before taking Darcy with him to meet Rossi. She had been witty and sweet, and he was loathe to leave her, even for a short time, but he knew it was necessary. He knew that everything was set, but he wouldn’t be comfortable until he checked once more for himself.

When he had triple checked that everything was in place, he couldn’t help but steal a moment for himself in the library. It was his sanctuary, and he needed a little bit of calm before he was ready for the full weight of the ball to be pressing on him. Just as he was determined to get up and find Darcy, she found him. He was concerned about how distressed she appeared, and only became angry as she explained what had caused her to be so distressed.

It wasn’t until Darcy was writing to her maid that he actually started to feel relief wash over him. She would marry him in a few short minutes, and she would never have to go back to that terrible house again. He knew his valet would help with the packing, but he was grateful he also had two of Rossi’s men at his leisure this evening that he could send along as well.

The ceremony was short and simple, but it achieved everything he wanted— he and Darcy were finally married. He kissed her softly and briefly, still worried about what he suspected had happened with the attacker. When Darcy looked up at him from beneath her lashes as he ended the kiss, he felt the last of his reservations give way about marrying her. Hotch and Prentiss were wrong. She had nothing to do with any of that, and now that she was finally his, he would protect her, even from his own boss.

Rossi clapped him on the shoulder, bringing him out of his small reverie. “I believe we have a ball to open and an announcement to make,” he said, smiling at them. 

Jane came up and kissed Darcy’s cheek, practically pushing him out of the way to do so. Prince Thor laughed as Jane whispered fervently in Darcy’s ear for just a moment. He was surprised that when Miss Foster pulled away from Darcy she turned and kissed him on the cheek as well. “Take care of her,” she whispered into his ear, “or when I am married I will use the full force of my royalty to make you miserable.”

“I understand,” he said to her with a smile. “I feel the same way.” Jane gave a satisfied nod, and the group made their way back to the ballroom, Jane and Prince Thor peeling off to join other friends while Rossi, Darcy, and himself went to the head of the room.

“It is my great honor to open tonight’s ball,” Rossi said, gathering everyone’s attention. “As you know, it is being thrown to celebrate the engagement of my dear friend, Mr. Reid. What you do not know, is that just minutes ago, Miss Lewis became Mrs. Reid, blessing my friend in the state of matrimony.”

His words had an instant effect. There was plenty of whispering and a screech that he worried was her mother. 

“I thank you all for joining us in what is now a wedding ball, and I invite you to claim your partners for the first dance.”

Spencer offered his hand to Darcy who smiled serenely up at him, taking their spot at the head of the dance. He ignored everyone that was staring or speaking louder than perhaps they ought, instead focusing on his first dance with his wife. As the music started, he felt himself following the steps with an ease he had never felt before.

“Husband,” Darcy said with a mischievous smile on her face, “I did not know you could dance so well.”

He enjoyed the way “husband” sounded when she said it to him. “I said I did not do it often, not that I was not good at it, wife.”

Darcy practically beamed at him. “This may very well be an activity I ask you to indulge in more often,” she said, “for dancing with you is, indeed, a great pleasure.”

The dance parted them for a moment, and when they came back together, he said lowly so that only she could hear, “I only seek to give you pleasure, wife.” He was surprised by his own boldness, but gratified by the way she flushed and stammered a bit before she could answer.

“I believe that is a conversation to be had behind closed doors,” she squeaked. 

“Then perhaps, after this dance, we might find our way back to the library. I believe there’s a door that can be closed there.” She missed a step, but he did not comment on it.

“I think you mean to intimidate me,” she said, finding her footing again.

“Not intimidate,” he quickly said. “Never intimidate.”

“Oh? But I was starting to enjoy it,” she said, that sparkle he was coming to love back in her eyes. “I enjoy bantering with you, and I’d like to do it more.”

“Is bantering the only thing you’d like to do more?” he asked innocently.

She was saved from answering by another parting in the dance. “I also enjoyed kissing you,” she said quickly and quietly as they passed by each other. “But I’m worried that is not fit to discuss on the dance floor either,” she added once they were facing one another again.

“Perhaps not,” he allowed, though his blood was thrumming at the thought of her enjoying kissing him. “But something I liked hearing, nonetheless.”

“How did I never know you have the mouth of a rake?”

“Are you sorry to have learned so?” he asked instead of denying it.

“Excited,” she whispered. “I like seeing this new side of you.”

“You’d better,” he said, “for it is hard to be rid of me now.”

She laughed, just as the music ended, drawing attention to them once again, though Spencer had quite forgotten that they had been the center of attention at all once they had started dancing. All he had been able to think about was Darcy.

As he led her from the dance floor, Garcia and Morgan met up with them. “Congratulations,” Penelope said, mirthfully. “I always knew you would end up breaking convention somehow when you married,” she said. “I just did not expect it to be a surprise, hurried wedding!”

“What did you think it would be?” Darcy asked before he could.

“I thought it would be something like getting married in the library,” she said with a shrug.

Darcy burst out laughing. “That’s where it happened, isn’t it?” Morgan asked, rolling his eyes a bit. “You and your libraries.”

“To be fair,” Darcy said, “It was my idea.”

“That right there is why you two are meant to be,” Penelope said. “You found the only woman in the entire country that would marry you in a library.”

“Do you mind if Reid and I have a word for a moment?” Derek said to the women, though it was clear he was expecting no objection.

“Of course not,” Darcy said, looking at Garcia. “Penelope owes me a few stories anyway.”

Spencer smiled at his wife (his wife!) once more before turning back to Morgan. “Shall we?” he asked.

They didn’t wander far from the women, finding an empty bit of space near the wall a few feet away. As soon as they stopped walking, Morgan said, “Are you sure you made the right choice?”

“Excuse me?”

“Marrying her. Was it the right choice?”

He could hardly believe his ears. “She was my fiancee, so, yes, I made the right choice.”

“Don’t be like that,” Morgan said right away. “You know that I’m right to be concerned that she’s playing you, right?”

“For what? My money? She had a twenty-thousand pound dowry. I don’t think money was a motive.”

“She what?” Morgan exclaimed.

“She had a secret dowry. She did not marry me for my fortune.”

“That still doesn’t mean she didn’t have another reason,” Morgan argued back.

“What is your objection to my marriage? Is it the unorthodox manner in which it happened? Because any concern over that should be mine and mine alone, and since I have none, neither should you.” He turned and made his way back to Darcy and Penelope, who seemed to be just standing there, not speaking.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“Derek. Morgan,” Penelope spat out as the man came over to join them. “How dare you?”

“What?” he asked.

Spencer realized what had happened just as Garcia said, “We heard every word. How can you look at them and not see a couple in love?”

“Because they haven’t known each other that long!” he replied, exasperated.

“You don’t have to know someone for a long time to know they’re right for you,” she argued. “You can just look at them and know.”

“Then why, Miss Garcia, can you never see me?” Derek asked, shocking all of them. 

Darcy gave Penelope a little push toward Morgan before coming to Spencer’s side. “I’ve always seen you,” Garcia said, her voice full of unspoken emotion, “I thought you never saw me.”

Feeling like they were now intruding on a private moment, Spencer quietly backed away with Darcy so his friends could discuss without an audience.

“That was almost straight out of a novel,” Darcy sighed once they were far enough away.

“I agree,” he said, looking back at the couple and seeing a lot of discussion with hand waving.

“Darcy Sophia Lewis,” a voice he had learned to loathe called out.

“Reid,” Darcy corrected her mother. “It’s now Darcy Sophia Reid.” Spencer pulled her a little closer to him, wanting to make sure she knew that he would stick by her and protect her.

“How dare you get married and not have me witness it?! How am I to know it actually happened? I demand this be annulled at once.”

“Mother, the papers are already signed,” Darcy sighed.

“And Prince Thor witnessed the ceremony,” Spencer added. “I doubt he would have allowed the marriage to go through if he thought it was inappropriate in any way. You would have to call him out, should you try to contest it.”

“This will not do!” he mother said. “I told you I was taking care of things!”

Spencer wanted desperately to give this woman a stern talking to, but he knew that he should let Darcy have her say before he did anything. She had more right and reason than he did.

“I told you I did not need you to take care of things,” Darcy said patiently, though he could hear the anger simmering under the surface. “I told you that I was quite happy and that I wanted to marry Spencer. It was  _ you _ who refused to listen. I don’t know what you were planning, but it was nothing I ever asked for. I am happy to be married, and I believe you would do well to accept that.”

It wasn’t the forceful setting down Spencer would have liked, but he could tell that Darcy was trying to keep there from being a scene.

“Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn,” her mother spat before walking away.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” she said immediately.

“I’m not sorry,” he said. “I’m glad that I was here to support you, and I’m glad that you will be coming home with me tonight.”

“I am glad as well,” she said, looking out to the crowd.

They stood there, side by side, quiet, for some moments. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Reid,” a voice called behind them. They turned and he saw Prentiss walking toward them.

“Lady Prentiss,” Darcy said, looking at the woman warily, making Spencer wonder just how the two had previously met.

“Congratulations to you both,” she said, ignoring Darcy’s hesitant hello. “I’m happy for both of you.” She sounded sincere to Spencer, so he decided to accept her at face value.

“Thank you, Emily,” he said. He turned to Darcy, “I knew Lady Prentisa when she was first married. It was my first season, I believe? She found me in the library reading a French novel when she was looking for her husband. She had read it before, and we became easy friends. She has a knack for knowing exactly when I’ve decided to hide away for a bit.”

“I’m hopeful that you will spend more time in the ballroom since you have such a lovely wife to dance with and shield you from those that would bother you too much.” He hadn’t considered it, but that certainly was an advantage to his marriage. He might be considered eccentric if he only ever danced with his wife, but not rude. And if he sat out dances, well it wouldn’t be remarked on the same way it usually was. 

“I do not think he had realized that,” Darcy said when he did not respond. “Thank you for adding to what I’m sure is a very long list of the charms of being my husband,” she said, teasing him.

“I know our first meeting was abrupt,” Prentiss said, making him more interested in the story, “but the more I know of you, the more I like you.” He wondered if that was her stating that there was no connection between Darcy and whatever ties there were with Dr. Banner.

“The more time I spend with him, the more I understand our first meeting,” Darcy said. “Please, do not be a stranger. I hope you will visit us often once I am settled?”

“I shall,” Prentiss said. “Congratulations again. I must be on my way.”

When she left, he was surprised to realize how much time had actually passed. The ball felt like it was flying by. Normally by now, Spencer would be feeling tired of the frivolity, but with Darcy by his side, it had felt like minutes instead of the hour and a half it must have been. He was surprised that no one had come to take her from him for a dance.

"Oh, that?" she said, when he asked. "I made excuses that I would be much needed to act as honored guest and therefore, would be little able to dance. Though, I did mostly employ this with those with whom I only danced in the past because of my mother."

"So marrying me is benefiting you as well," he teased.

"Oh, absolutely," she agreed readily. "I doubt you will force me into calls with people that I barely tolerate, force me to dance with men I do not like the look of, nor expect me to shop for hours on end at stores I do not like. I have gotten much freedom by marrying you."

"That seems counter-intuitive," he laughed. "Freedom in marriage? That is not how I have often heard it described."

"But most women are not married to you," she replied. "Other men might expect all those things, but I am certain you will not because you are kind and less concerned with appearances than most."

"I suppose that is good as I seem in serious danger of letting my wife rule over me."

“I shall only rule over you if you ask nicely,” she said with a wink that made him feel a bit warm under the collar.

“I wonder if it’s wrong I am considering asking,” he found himself replying, satisfied with the way she flushed in response.

“Am I interrupting?” Natasha asked, suddenly appearing in front of them.

“Of course not,” he said, though she was. It was probably best because he wasn’t sure he should continue their conversation in public, even he wanted to.

“Natasha!” Darcy said with much happiness. “I didn’t think you were going to make it.”

“I had to finish a business letter,” she admitted, “but I would never fully miss your engagement ball, though I believe that’s no longer what this is, is it, Mrs. Reid?”

He enjoyed people calling her by his name, he was surprised to realize.

“It is not,” she agreed. “Have you met my husband yet?”

“We’re acquainted,” he said. 

“He’s being generous,” Natasha supplied. “I broke into his house.”

“Natasha!” Darcy said, gaping at her friend. “Why in the world would you do that?”

“I told you I wouldn’t let just anyone marry you without looking into them,” she said, as though it were that simple.

“You shouldn’t break into homes,” Darcy protested. “As someone who has been violated as such, I apologize that my friend is so terrible,” she said to him. 

He couldn’t let her think that his experience with Natasha had been similar at all to her own. “I promise you it was a very civil conversation,” he said. “It’s admirable that you have friends that care enough about you to make sure I was an honorable man.”

Natasha appraised him. “I knew I judged you properly.” She turned to Darcy. “I approve of your choice of husband.” She turned back to him. “But be aware that my latest gifts to her were combs suitable for stabbing a man, in case you turn out differently than anticipated.”

“They shall match my engagement gift then,” he said, unconcerned. "What is it about you that makes people want to make sure you can stab someone?”

“I don’t know, but it turns out I have some skill at it,” she said with a shrug that didn’t seem totally at ease.

Natasha must have noticed as well because she changed the subject. “You must be eager to leave,” she said.

“I  _ am _ getting tired,” Darcy said, “but why would I be eager?”

“It’s your wedding night,” Natasha said very evenly.

Spencer tensed. He hadn’t thought about that. He, of course, knew what happened on a wedding night, but in all of the events that had transpired he hadn’t given it much thought. All he had been thinking about was getting Darcy out of her mother’s house. They hadn’t even taken the normal liberties that couples usually did.

“You do know what people have been saying?” Natasha asked when neither of them said anything right away. At Darcy’s quizzical look, she said, “Everyone thinks you rushed things because you anticipated your vows.”

“Oh,” was all Darcy said.

“We can’t do much to correct that rumor,” Spencer said regretfully. “Though Penelope is on top of all the gossip in town. She can perhaps tell us how bad it is and possibly plant choice words in the right ears to correct it.”

Natasha looked at him. “Penelope Garcia?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “I hadn’t realized…” she trailed off, shaking her head.

“Is there something wrong?” Spencer asked.

“No, it just put some pieces into place for me,” Natasha said, a small smile on her lips. “Perhaps she should spread word of your dowry. That might make for some confusion about whether Darcy was compromised or you wanted her money.”

“How did you…” Darcy asked. Natasha shot her a look. “Oh. Of course,” Darcy said, the look apparently telling her all she needed to know.

“I would rather them think I was eager to have her money than we had acted improperly. It’s much less of a crime in society,” Spencer said. “It’s a good thought.”

“I like him very much,” Natasha said to Darcy. “Have a good evening, both of you,” she said before melting back into the crowd and all but disappearing.

Spencer looked at Darcy for a moment, enjoying the smooth line of her neck. “What shall we do now, wife?” he asked, still enjoying the thrill of calling her his wife.

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly that. What do you want to do? We can stay or we can leave. I doubt anyone would think twice about us leaving a little early.” He was surprised that he hoped she wanted to leave, not because of his normal desire to be out of the crowd, but to spend more time alone with Darcy. 

“Take me home, husband?” she asked sweetly. How could he deny her? He didn’t want to leave her side, so he took her with him to find Rossi to thank him for hosting and bid him a goodnight. He smiled widely at them and wished them a good evening. Darcy asked to bid Jane a goodbye, and Spencer wanted to take his leave of Derek and Penelope, but they were nowhere to be found. In no time, they were bundled into his carriage and they were alone for the first time in a long time.

“I know it’s silly,” Darcy said, her head tilted toward the window, “but I’m nervous that we will get to your house and the staff will hate me.”

“Did someone say or do something this afternoon to make you feel that way?” he asked, ready to discipline as needed.

“No,” she said, her eyes still on the window. “That’s why it is silly.”

Spencer leaned forward and grasped her hand. “They will like you because I do,” he promised. 

She turned to look at him, squeezing his hand as the carriage came to a stop.” I trust you,” she said, and he felt the enormity of what that must mean for her.

He handed her out of the carriage and tried not to walk too quickly to the door. His butler greeted them as soon as they entered. “Mrs. Richards is overseeing the last of Mrs. Reid’s things being brought in and has ordered a light meal to be sent to your rooms, sir, upon your arrival.” He turned and bowed to Darcy. “Welcome, Mrs. Reid. Your maid has been most anxious to see you.”

“Shall we retire upstairs?” he asked. “You can meet with your maid and see that things are being settled properly and then join me in my room?” Darcy readily agreed, and he escorted her to her door, pausing just outside it, stopping her from opening the door. He took her hands in his. “You are under no obligation tonight,” he said in a soft voice. “I know there are...expectations about what should happen when you come to my room, but know that I am genuinely offering you just a meal and a chance to relax. Anything more is up to you.”

She went up on her toes and kissed him softly on the cheek. “I will see you soon, husband,” she said, slipping into her room.

Spencer took a moment to look at her door and control his expectations before entering his own rooms. Their rooms were connected by a door, and he could hear voices, though not the words, in the other room. He saw Mr. Johns waiting for him. “Were there any problems getting my wife’s things?” 

“Minimal,” he said, taking Spencer’s cravat and setting it aside.

“Minimal does not mean none.”

Mr. Johns gave a small sigh, a sure sign he was displeased with something. “The housekeeper did not want to let us take her things at first, refusing to believe she was married. When Anna produced the letter she had written, the housekeeper demanded to read it. The maid refused, stating some confidences that she was asked to keep, but reiterating that, by Mrs. Reid’s own admission in her own hand, she was married and wanted her things. I pointed out that it was not as though it were unclear who I was and where we were taking her things if it was in error. She did not like this much either, but I followed Anna’s lead and ignored her, taking Sir Rossi’s men with me to begin loading things while she saw to the packing of the final items. She asked me to stand guard outside the door while she retrieved some items Mrs. Reid had hidden, and once she had them in hand, we left while the housekeeper yelled at us. It was all bluster, sir, for she did not call the police.”

“So she just made your life difficult,” he sighed, shrugging out of his coat. “Just like her mother.” Mr. Johns helped him remove his boots. “How about any issues with the staff here once you brought the items back?”

“Of course not,” Mr. Johns scoffed. “And if there were, Mrs. Richards will see to them.”

Spencer nodded at this, deciding to not disrobe any further less he make Darcy nervous  “I will meet with you and Mrs. Richards in the morning.”

“Of course, sir,” Mr. Johns said, taking it for the dismissal it was. There was a knock at the door, and then a maid was bustling in with the meal that had been ordered. He had her place it near the fireplace. It sounded like there were fewer voices in Darcy’s room now, and he hoped that meant she would be joining him soon. He thought back to the short, chaste kiss they had shared at their wedding and how soft her lips had been. He hoped she would let him kiss her again. She had seemed amenable to the idea on the dance floor, but that didn’t mean that she hadn’t changed her mind. He thought about what her hair might look like when it was down and what it might feel like to run his hands over her skin. He wondered if she was ticklish or if her gowns hid beauty marks that only he would get to know about. 

He must have gotten lost in his thoughts because before he knew it she was in front of him, calling his name softly. “Darcy!” he said, his voice quiet but surprised. “I’m sorry, I was lost in thought.”

“That’s alright,” she said, sitting in the open chair next to his. Her hair was down; soft chestnut waves framing her face, stretching to nearly halfway down her back. She was wearing a soft, thin nightgown that both concealed and showed more than he was expecting. He must have been staring because she asked, “Do I please you, husband?”

He pulled his eyes up to meet hers. “Of course you do,” he said quickly. “I just had not known what to expect, and I find reality is somehow always better than my imagination.” She blushed at his words. He gestured to the table the maid had set up. “Shall we eat? You must be hungry.”

They spent the next half hour eating and making small talk. It was clear to him that both of them were nervous about their first night together, so he tried to keep the conversation on safe, mundane topics. He explained what a typical day was like for him and how he had made sure his agenda was clear for the next two days so he could spend them with her. She had teased him about being certain she would marry him that night, and he smugly replied that he had been right. Listening to her laugh was possibly his favorite sound, and he thought he would like to make it happen as often as possible. But soon the food was done and he was running out of topics to cover. Darcy yawned.

“You must be tired,” he said. “I apologize for keeping you up.”

“I am, but not so tired as to be ready to sleep yet. I’m enjoying your company too much to leave it just yet.”

“You know you don’t have to?”

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “I do not?”

“We are married,” he explained. “You can stay here as long as you wish. You may even sleep in here.” He paused for a second, debating, before adding, “With me.”

He didn’t understand the emotions that crossed her face before she finally timidly said, “I have only been given cursory knowledge about what happens in the bridal bed, but I was told that I should always go back to my own room after.”

“Why?” he asked, confused.

“Because if I don’t, my husband might pester me all night with his attentions. Attentions I was told were painful.” She would not look him in the eye and her face was flushed with embarrassment. 

“Darcy, no,” he said gently. “I told you when I saw you to your door that I had no expectations. That we would do as much or as little as you wished. If you want to go back to your chamber now, that is fine. But if you want to stay here, with me, I promise not to ‘pester’ you, and I would certainly not want to hurt you.” She looked skeptical at this. He stood and offered his hand to her. “Come, let us go lay down. Nothing else. We will keep talking, but just on the bed instead of the chair. That way, if you do fall asleep, you will not strain your neck.” She tentatively took his hand, but once she did, it was like she had made a choice. She let him lead her over to his bed where they both got situated before he pulled the covers over them. He laid down, facing her, and she did the same. “Tell me what you hope to do tomorrow,” he said, trying to get her back into the casual conversation they had enjoyed over by the fireplace.

“I hope to spend much of my day with you,” she said, her voice already relaxed and sleepy. “You cleared your schedule for me, and I’d like to take advantage of that.”

“And what shall we do while you take advantage of my open schedule?”

“I’d like to walk in your garden. There was a lovely little area where the rose vines were on an arbor and made a tunnel of blossoms. I think I’d like to kiss you there.”

He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Then kiss me there you shall,” he said as his fingers traced a line down her jaw before pulling away.

“Maybe we should practice,” she said so softly he almost missed it.

“Should we?”

“If you don’t mind,” she said shyly. “I enjoyed our kiss earlier and thought maybe another would be nice.”

He moved closer to her. “Is this sufficient?” he asked, his nose nearly touching hers.

“Yes,” she breathed.

He slowly pressed his lips to hers. It took a second before she was pressing back into him, but then she was overwhelming him with her nearness. Her lips moved against his, and her hand found his, fingers tangling together. He tried to burn into his memory the smell of her, the feel of her pressed against him, the way her lips parted a tiny bit when she sighed into him. He wouldn’t push her for more, but he wanted to remember this if it took a while for them to kiss again. 

He wasn’t sure how long they kissed, but too soon she pulled away and yawned again. “I’m sorry,” she said sleepily.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose. “Sleep. I’ll still be here in the morning.”

“You better be,” she said. “I have plans for you.”

He rather liked the sound of that.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Spencer spend their first married day together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone that sent me kind notes last week about my grandfather and to everyone for being so understanding about missing a week. Extra special thanks to Dresupi who helped me pick the poem at the end of the chapter.

Darcy awoke to sunlight pouring into the room and a weight across her waist. It took her a moment to recall the previous night. She was married! And she had kissed Spencer! And it had been  _ lovely _ .  _ He  _ had been lovely. She had fallen asleep in his bed. She looked over and saw him, still asleep. His arm was slung over her. His hair was mussed, and she wanted to run her fingers through it. Then she realized there was nothing stopping her. She tentatively reached out and swept some hair from his eyes before pushing her fingers back through his locks. His fingers twitched a bit, and then his hand pulled her closer to him. “You like that?” she asked, fully aware he wasn’t awake and couldn’t answer. She ran her fingers through his hair again, dragging her nails just a bit on his scalp. This time, he pressed himself more into her, his head going into the crook of her neck. It seemed her husband liked to cuddle in his sleep. She could feel his soft breath on her neck, and it excited her in a way she didn’t fully understand. She laid her arm on top of the one around her waist and traced lazy lines with her fingers, enjoying his heat pressed against her. His fingers curled again, but this time it hit her in just the right spot, and she let out a small yelp as she squirmed away from the ticklish touch.

Spencer startled awake. “Darcy?” he asked, blinking his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“You were tickling me in your sleep,” she said, laughter still in her voice. “I’m sorry I woke you, husband.” (Oh but did she love calling him her husband!)

“Oh, you’re ticklish, are you?” he asked, much more awake now. “I should learn where so I can avoid it in the future,” he said, his hands going to her sides, his fingers finding just the right spots causing her to squirm and laugh. 

“Spencer Reid, you are a menace!” she got out through her laughter.

A throat cleared at the end of the bed. Both of them immediately stopped and looked toward the noise.

“Sorry to interrupt,” his valet said. The tips of his ears were pink. “I did not realize what I was hearing at first.” He stood remarkably still for a man that was clearly uncomfortable. “Will you be going down to breakfast, or shall I have a tray sent up?”

Spencer looked at her before saying, “Have a tray sent up. I will ring when I’m ready for you again, William.”

His valet bowed and left the room both quickly and with a surprising amount of dignity. Darcy looked over at Spencer and burst out laughing. “It seems I will have some work to do if I am to get your valet to like me.”

Spencer returned her smile. “He’ll like you very much. Just last night you proved him right by saying my hair was well styled. That had been his idea.”

“He still looked mortified to have found you tickling me. It was probably because he was shocked at your lack of manners. Don’t you know it’s poor form to make me wheeze like a hyena?”

“Is that what you were doing? I thought a bird was  dying in the fireplace.”

“You sir are a tease,” she declared.

“You think me a tease?” he asked, pulling away from her slightly. She hated how she instantly missed his closeness. “I suppose I should actually show you me teasing so you know the difference.” He moved closer to her again, a more predatory look on his face as crowded against her and began nuzzling at her neck, placing soft kisses into the hollows and making her feel warm and languid at his touch. One hand wound around his neck while the other raked through his hair, and he let out a soft sigh against her skin, sending shivers down her spine. 

“This is a much different teasing than I expected,” she said, her voice oddly breathy. 

His arms went to her waist, but his head pulled back to look at her. “Do you wish me to stop?” he asked.

“I. Well…,” she said, unsure what she wanted. There was a knock at the door. “Maybe just for the moment?” she settled on. When he had pulled away from her, she bid the servant to enter. A young maid came in with a tray full of breakfast foods. She kept her eyes averted from the bed.

“May I get you anything else?” she asked, her eyes on the floor.

“That will be all,” Spencer said, taking pity on the maid who scurried out as soon as the words left his mouth.

“I seem to be making a certain kind of impression on your staff,” Darcy said, worried what the staff must think of her. She wanted them to respect and like her, otherwise it would be a tough battle to get them to obey her. She would ask Anna to listen and see what talk she could hear.

“The only impression you’re making is that you make me happy,” he said, tossing back the covers and coming around to her side of the bed. He gave a small bow and offered his arm. “May I escort you to breakfast, my dear?”

She giggled and took his arm. “You may,” she allowed.

At breakfast, they discussed that both of them needed to write letters— him to several business contacts as well as his mother, and her to the shops so they could send her purchases to her new home. She asked to also pen a note to his mother, which he readily agreed to. They decided to meet in the library in an hour. She was surprised how easy everything had felt. Spencer had stayed true to his word and not placed any expectations on her. Sleeping in his bed had been a little odd, but in a nice way. And his playful attitude this morning had cemented for her that she had made the right choice. 

Anna was waiting for her, three dresses already out on the bed. “Ma’am,” Anna said with a small curtsy, “I hope you don’t mind that I picked a few options for you this morning to select from.”

“Anna, of course I don’t mind,” she said. “Which do you think I should wear?”

Anna looked at the closed door separating Spencer’s rooms from hers before leaning in. “I heard William say that he was going to suggest Mr. Reid wear his blue coat today, so I thought that the lilac would be a nice match without being too monochromatic.”

Darcy gave her a look. “Are you and Mr. Johns already conspiring to dress us as a coordinating pair?” she asked.

“We would never conspire,” Anna said in such a tone as to imply the opposite. “We both just wish you to look your best.”

“You do know we are not home to visitors today and have no plans to go out?” Darcy asked.

“You still want to look united in front of the staff,” Anna said. “Besides, I needed to know whether or not you would give in to my gentle suggestions.”

Darcy smiled. “I trust you, Anna. Please, conspire to your heart’s content.”

Anna gave her a wide smile before heading over to the bed and putting away the other dresses. “There is a basin and cloth at the vanity for you.”

Anna took her time getting Darcy ready, impressing on her that she should look just as put together today as she did yesterday so the staff would “know what kind of lady” she was. Anna also agreed to listen for any gossip about the new mistress. When she finally met Spencer in the library, she had used her full hour. Spencer looked up from his writing desk and smiled when she entered.

“Hello, wife. I had the sitting room writing desk moved in here for you,” he said, gesturing to the desk situated near his. “I know it’s not in the best of locations, but I thought it would serve us well today.” 

She leaned over and kissed his temple before taking her seat at the writing desk. “It will serve us well indeed,” she agreed. Her letters to the shop owners were easy to write, though signing her new name was something she still needed to get used to. Writing to Spencer’s mother, however, was a more difficult task. He had told her a bit about the woman, but she still wasn’t sure exactly how to start. When she had mentioned that she wanted to write to his mother, she had hoped to explain to the woman how much she cared for her son and how eager she was to meet the woman who had played such an important role in his upbringing. But every time she tried to commit those words to paper, she felt like they fell short, or were too familiar, or didn’t explain things right. She had started over three times before she put her pen down and placed her elbows on the desk, cradling her head in her hands, trying to clear out the thoughts telling her she wasn’t doing this properly. If she could just clear her mind, she was certain she could do this.

“Darcy?” Spencer asked. He was crouched beside her. “Are you well?”

“I am,” she assured him. “I just find that the words don’t want to come for this last letter.”

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” he suggested. “Perhaps that will clear your mind?”

“An excellent idea,” she said, standing as he did.

“I believe there was an arbor you wanted to visit,” he said, though she could hear the slight question he wasn’t asking.

“There was,” she agreed. “I do hope we come across it as we walk.”

He led her out to the garden. The day was bright and clear. The shadows were a bit cool, but in the sun it felt divine.

“How many days will we have before we must accept callers?” she asked.

“Just two,” he said. “We also have several dinner invitations that we will need to sort through, though they are mostly for next week.”

“You mean _ you _ have dinner invitations.”

“No.  _ We _ do. A veritable flood of them came in this morning. I’ve never been this popular, so it must be you they all want to see.”

“Us,” she replied, matching his earlier tone. “They want to see us. Possibly they hope to see that we’ve made a huge mistake, but others are just interested in the latest bit of gossip which appears to be our quick wedding.”

“It’s odd to be the center of gossip,” Spencer said. “Do you want to reject all of the invites? Hide away a bit longer?”

“I wouldn’t mind hiding forever,” she said. “I’ve been the subject of too much attention in the past. But I think that we can be selective and give just enough that the gossip dies down without feeling under the microscope.”

“I don’t want to share you,” he said, his breath hot against her ear. “Is that selfish of me?”

“Perhaps,” she said with a smile, “but I find myself feeling the same way.” She took in the view of the rose arbor, taking a deep breath and letting the scent fill her lungs. “It seems we have found the roses,” she said, turning to him.

“So we have,” he said against her lips before kissing her. His hands were on her waist and she welcomed their warm presence. Her hands were curled around the lapel of his jacket. He opened his mouth a little and his tongue slid across her lips. She opened her mouth deepened the kiss, enjoying this new exploration. She felt his hands flex against her side, and she wondered if his hands wanted to touch her elsewhere. She thought she might like it if they did.

The kiss ended slowly. She hadn’t realized she had gone up on her toes to kiss him until she felt a tiny ache in them. As she slid back to her flat feet, he rested his forehead against hers. “Was that all right?” he asked.

“More than,” she replied. “I’m so glad we practiced last night. I fear, though, that this is probably much like my piano playing. I shall need to practice constantly if I am to be passable at it.”

He pulled his head from hers and laughed a little. “I look forward to your constant practice,” he said. 

They continued their walk through the garden. He pointed out several beds and explained what he knew about what was planted in them and why. Just as they were turning back toward the house, the butler came out, looking very put upon. 

“I’m sorry sir. I told him you were not home to visitors today, but he forced his way in. I was not sure what you wanted me to do.”

“Who?” Spencer asked. 

“Lord Hotchner,” the butler said.

Spencer looked at Darcy before turning back to the butler. “Where is he now?”

“The library, sir.”

He looked at Darcy. “Perhaps you feel ready to finish that letter now?” he asked.

“I do.”

“I suppose I shall see to Lord Hotchner, then. I shall impress upon him how very displeased I am, though.”

Darcy followed Spencer back into the house and wondered about the relationship between her husband and the Lord. She didn’t know much about him other than the few things Natasha had told her. She knew that he did some sort of work for the crown, but the nature of it was very quiet. She realized that she didn’t know how Spencer made his money, and began to wonder if it was related to Lord Hotchner.

“There you are,” Lord Hotchner said. He had been pacing the room, and didn’t immediately notice her presence. “I’ve been waiting.”

“And I was not home to visitors today,” Spencer said in a deceptively calm voice. “Have you met my wife?” he asked, as Darcy joined him at his side.

Lord Hotchner’s eyes swept over her briefly before he was looking at Spencer again. “We need to talk. Alone.”

Spencer looked him dead in the eye. “Don’t you have something to say to both of us first?” he asked stiffly.

“Congratulations on your wedding,” he said sourly. “Alone, Spencer,” he spat out.

Darcy looked at Spencer. “It’s okay,” she said.

“It’s not,” he disagreed, “but I thank you for saying so.” He looked at Lord Hotchner whose face was stormy. “Shall we go to my study?”

Darcy was disappointed that she wouldn’t be allowed to overhear whatever they were discussing, but if it  _ was _ somehow related to the security of the country, it made sense that they were heading somewhere private. She wondered if he could tell her the truth if she asked.  She’d think on that later. For now she wanted to write her letter to his mother. She finally was feeling as though she knew how to say what she wanted to say.

When she had finished her letter, Spencer was still meeting with Lord Hotchner, so she decided to head to the kitchen to speak to Mrs. Richards and the cook. If she was going to manage the house, she needed to have a better understanding of how it was currently running. She found both women already together, and they seemed more than happy to spend a few minutes discussing the household with her. She appreciated that neither of them seemed put off by the detailed questions she asked. Her mother’s house had a cook that was skimming off their grocery money, and she had learned to ask pointed questions and listen to not only what was said, but the body language of the person. She got the impression that both women worked hard and were proud of the work, and she could trust them to be truthful with her. She asked if Spencer had ordered a celebration dinner for the staff, and found he had not. Mrs. Richards assured her that they had discussed it, but he had likely forgotten since the wedding was moved up. She smiled and asked for the dinner to be readied, and then went over the menu for the rest of the week. She went back to her rooms satisfied that the interview had gone well.

In her room she found Anna seeing to the last of her unpacking. There was a large trunk that must have been placed elsewhere overnight because she did not remember seeing it. 

“Did you have a good morning, ma’am?” Anna asked from behind a pile of dresses.

“I did,” Darcy said, coming to take a few from her hands. “Did you?”

Anna didn’t answer right away. “It can be hard to find your place in a new home,” she said, “but so far this one has been fairly easy. I’m just hoping that the hard part doesn’t come later.”

“Is anyone giving you a hard time?” Darcy asked. She wouldn’t stand for her maid to have difficulties.

“No, ma’am,” she said right away. “But that’s what has me worried. Everyone has been kind. I haven’t even heard any laughter or whispers behind my back.”

“Would you prefer if there were?” Darcy said, trying to fully understand the problem.

“No,” Anna said, pausing to put away the dresses she took from Darcy’s hands. “I’ve just never been somewhere new where people didn’t whisper at first.”

“Maybe they’re hoping you will gossip about me, so they’re staying on your good side.”

Anna moved back to the trunk, which Darcy could now see was nearly empty. “Perhaps,” Anna agreed, “except all the things I’ve heard about you so far are good too. I did hear one maid speaking about how you and Mr. Reid were in bed together when she delivered breakfast, but cook shut her up real quick. She said that that’s how it should be with married couples and she wouldn’t hear talk like it was improper. The girl got real quiet. She’s still young, so I think she just didn’t know better. I’m sure that what cook said next was meant for me to hear, though, because she said that she was happy that you and the master seemed to be getting along good. That she’d rather work in a happy house any day. I got the feeling she’d worked elsewhere before here, but she’s right. Excuse me for saying so, but your mother and father weren’t a happy house. They didn’t seem to care one way or the other about each other. And it wasn’t bad to work there, but tense, you know? Course, being your maid was always nice because you were kinder than your mother. I’m happy you brought me here. I’d like to see what a happy house can be like.” Anna stopped there, avoiding eye contact as though she was worried she said too much or might have offended Darcy.

“I’m glad I brought you too, Anna,” she said, trying to put the woman at ease. “You were the only person who cared about me after father died. I’d be floundering if I hadn’t had you.” Anna looked up and gave Darcy a small smile before bustling back to work putting things away. 

“I’ll keep listening, though, like you asked,” she said. “Especially in case that maid decides to not keep her mouth shut.”

Darcy walked over to the door that connected their rooms and knocked on it. There was no immediate answer, so she slowly opened it, only to see that Spencer’s room was empty. She thought it might be, but she wanted the door to be open and an invitation to him when he returned.

Anna finished up and went to see to other tasks, which left Darcy the opportunity to really inspect her new room and find the perfect hiding spot for her diary and the notebook. The loose floorboard under her bed had been perfect, but she doubted there would be another such space in this room. She spent a little time crawling on the floor and systematically trying to pry up the boards in the least obvious places. She didn’t bother with the boards that were in the open. She wouldn’t want someone to notice they were loose and call for them to be fixed and ruin everything. As she suspected, none of the boards gave way. She checked the drawers of her vanity for false bottoms to no luck. She was running out of ideas when she looked closer at the window seat. She pulled up the bottom cushion and prodded at the boards underneath, satisfied when one finally gave way. She let out an excited little noise before checking that she was alone and pulling the volumes from the drawer they currently were secreted in and placing them in her new hiding spot. She had just replaced the cushion and was admiring the view, deciding that the window was a very nice place to sit and read when Spencer called to her from the open doorway.

She beckoned him over as she sat in the window seat. He joined her, their legs touching as the space was not quite big enough for both of them. “I’m sorry about that taking so long,” he said once he was seated.

Darcy wrapped her hands around her knees, hugging them close to her body so he could have a little more room. “I’m just guessing, but based on some things I’ve heard, your work must not be on a regular schedule.”

Spencer stiffened. “What do you mean?”

“I only know the little bit Natasha has told me,” she prefaced, “but she said Lord Hotchner worked for the crown, and since he’s not obviously in the militia, that leaves me to think he does something more secretive. And if he was here demanding to see you just twelve hours after our wedding, well it stands to reason it was probably because of his work which must be your work as well.” She fixed her eyes on the view of the garden out the window. “You don’t have to tell me if I’m right. Perhaps you can’t. I just thought I should tell you what I thought was going on.”

He didn’t reply to her, but he also didn’t move. As the silence stretched on, she was tempted to look at him to determine how to read the situation, but held off. He would talk when he was ready. She tilted her head down to rest on her knees, ready to wait him out. He shifted, and she was worried he was going to get up and leave, but instead he moved until his knees were touching hers, and she could feel him mimicking her pose. 

“I don’t know what I’m allowed to say,” he said softly. “I don’t want to keep secrets from you, but what he told me today…,” he trailed off.

She considered his words. “Either he told you something related to me,” she said carefully. “I’m not sure what, but something big enough you don’t know if you can trust me, or he told you something of such intense national security you’re afraid to speak the words aloud.” 

His feet were just outside of hers, and he was pivoting them on his heel in and out so his feet tapped her ankles. “Can you give me time to figure it out?” he asked.

She wanted to rush and reassure him, but she held back, wanting to really consider this before she answered. She wanted to get this right. _ Could _ she wait? She didn’t know exactly what she was waiting for nor how long it would take for him to figure it out. And what if he decided he couldn’t tell her anything? Could she handle that? “I can give you time,” she finally agreed, “but if it’s something about me, can you please make an attempt to find out the truth from me before believing whatever rumor? Having been at the center of several malicious and untrue rumors that circulated society, I’d hate for you to think lies true of me.”

“If that were it,” he said. “I would figure out a way to ask you.”

“Without giving your motive away, I hope,” she said, gently teasing him. “If you’re in the spy business, I’d like you to at least be good at it.”

He chuckled lowly. “Nothing but the best for my wife,” he said. 

She turned her head to look at him finally and found him already studying her, a small smile on his lips.

“You’re teasing, but that’s what I expect,” she said, trying to appear aristocratic while sitting like a young girl.

He leaned forward and kissed her hands where her fingers laced together before unfolding himself and standing. “I need to meet with Mrs. Richards and Mr. Johns to make sure things went smoothly last night. Do you wish to join me?”

She did. She was happy that he thought to include her in the meeting, especially as it related directly to her. She was also interested in seeing how he interacted with his staff so she could get a feel for how she should work with them. She wished she could be surprised about how her mother’s staff had acted, but she was pleasantly surprised to hear how smoothly everything had gone once Anna and her trunks had gotten to the house. She liked the way Mrs. Richards was frank with them (and even verified Anna’s story about the breakfast maid who had been warned and removed from upstairs work).

They spent the rest of the day in the library talking about his collection, what they had read, and then each picked a book for the other to read. They had enjoyed the companionable silence of two people comfortable enough with one another to not speak. If she had to describe a perfect day, besides the visit from Lord Hotchner, this would have been it.

Anna had set out a nicer nightgown for tonight. Darcy hadn’t been sure what to wear last night when she joined Spencer in his room, so Anna had suggested a demure yet pretty option. Tonight she had selected something that was gauzier and, in Darcy’s opinion, much prettier. She was excited to watch Spencer’s face as he saw her in it. She was brushing her hair when she saw him lean against her doorway and stare. She knew he couldn’t see much, seated as she was at the vanity, but his eyes seemed to travel from her face down her neck to her chest and then back up again. His eyes looked darker than before.

“Good evening, husband,” she said quietly, pulling the brush through her hair again.

It took him another moment before he answered her. “I realized we didn’t discuss whether or not we would see each other tonight,” he said. “I just wanted to...check.”

She stopped brushing her hair, sweeping it behind her shoulders. “Did you not want to see me?” she asked, tilting her head a little, watching the way his eyes traced the curve of her neck.

“No. Err, yes?” He shook his head a bit. “I mean, I want to see you tonight.”

“You are seeing me right now,” she said with a small smile.

He started to step into her room but stopped. “May I come in?”

She gave a small nod and found herself overwhelmed by how he looked closing the gap between them while so informally dressed. His jacket was off and his cravat untied, something she hadn’t been able to notice when he was leaning in the doorway. She realized he must have stopped in the middle of changing to come and ask her if he would see her tonight. She vaguely wondered if her answer was going to influence what he changed into.

When he was standing right in front of her, she stood, happy to see him suck in a breath as he took in her nightgown. If she was going to be affected by him, it was only fair that he was affected by  her as well.

“Spencer?” she asked when his eyes stopped for a moment at her breasts.

He snapped his eyes up to hers. “Yes?”

“I’d like to spend the night with you again,” she said, feeling bold for asking for what she wanted.

“Good. Yes,” he said, his tongue darting out to moisten his bottom lip. 

“Spencer?”

“Yes?”

“You should probably finish changing.”

He looked down like he was just realizing he hadn’t changed yet. “Right.”

“Come see me when you’re ready,” Darcy said, going up on her toes to kiss his cheek, enjoying the way he paused at her touch and then seemed to rush into action to get back to his room to finish changing.

Darcy decided she was done brushing her hair and went to her bed, pulling back the covers and settling in. She had the book of Keats’ poetry Spencer had selected for her earlier, and opened up to read some more while she waited. She had only read three or four poems when he appeared in her doorway again, this time not stopping before coming to join her in bed.

“I like watching you read,” he said, kissing her temple. “But maybe you’ll let me read to you?”

She handed the book to him, and he turned the page, moving close that they were touching from thigh to hip to shoulder.

_ “Bright star! would I were steadfast as thou art— _ __   
_ Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night, _ __   
_ And watching, with eternal lids apart, _ __   
_ Like Nature’s patient sleepless Eremite, _ __   
_ The moving waters at their priestlike task _ __   
_ Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores, _ __   
_ Or gazing on the new soft fallen mask _ __   
_ Of snow upon the mountains and the moors— _ __   
_ No—yet still steadfast, still unchangeable, _ __   
_ Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast, _ __   
_ To feel for ever its soft fall and swell, _ __   
_ Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, _ __   
_ Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, _ _   
_ __ And so live ever—or else swoon to death.”

His voice was soft and intimate as he read, almost as though he were whispering it into her ear even though he wasn’t speaking that quietly. He infused so much meaning into his reading that she thought  _ she _ might swoon when he came to the end of the poem. She had closed her eyes at some point, letting the words wash over her, and when she opened them he was looking at her.

“You should read me a poem every night,” she said. “I can think of no better way to end a day than listening to you read poetry.”

“You liked it, then?” he asked.

“Very much.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “You are an excellent reader.”

“It helps to have the right audience,” he said, tilting his own head against hers. “I couldn’t read that poem to just anyone.”

“What makes me the right audience, husband?” she asked a bit dreamily. His warmth and gentle voice was lulling her toward sleep.

“The fact that you are you, wife.” 

She smiled. She loved hearing him call her that.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer and Darcy have an eventful morning and run into some friends.

Spencer woke to a warmth snuggled close to him. Yesterday Darcy had awoken first, but today he was able to take a moment to look at her and take in her sleeping form. She was curled into him, her hair spread messily over the pillow, her knees bent until they were resting against his thigh. Her face was still and serene. He wondered if she was so close because she was cold. He resolved to find another blanket to add to her bed. Perhaps he would take her out shopping today so she could select it herself.

As he stared down at her, he thought about what Lord Hotchner had come to discuss the previous day. He had brought another message to be decoded and insisted on waiting while the work was done. While Spencer understood that urgent matters knew no good time, he was frustrated that the missive took nearly an hour to translate and didn’t bring them much new information. They already knew that a notebook was being sought, though this message did also explain that inside it were plans for several inventions that were hoped to be used as weapons of some sort. Lord Hotchner had then grilled him about Dr. Banner and Darcy, making him go over every detail he knew over and over again, never uncovering anything helpful as far as he was aware. Finally, Spencer had told Hotch that he had overstayed his welcome and needed to leave. He had lost several hours of his day with Darcy to something he felt could have been accomplished just as well in their normal fashion. 

When he had found Darcy sitting in her window seat, she had looked radiant while the sun made her hair glossy. And then she had gone and guessed at some of his work. He knew she was clever, but he hadn’t given much thought to what he could or should tell her about his work. He had thought he could hide it with his other translation work, but Lord Hotchner had made that essentially impossible. Of course, he hadn’t told her she was right, but by not saying she was wrong, he had basically done that. If she was smart enough to figure out what Hotch’s visit meant, she was smart enough to figure out that she was right. He would ask Emily. She’d know what he could say.

He looked back at his wife’s head and ran his fingers through her hair. She had looked ravishing last night; her nightgown had made his mouth dry and his mind full of nothing but her. She hadn’t noticed him watch her finish reading a poem before he fully entered her room, which was to his benefit. He loved watching her face as she devoured the words on the page. Giving her Keats had been a stroke of genius as she seemed equal turns charmed and thoughtful. When he read to her she had been enthralled, and he had adored the way she had leaned into him without realizing what she was doing. It made him feel like her husband in more than words. 

He supposed that he perhaps wasn’t exactly her husband. The marriage had not yet been consummated, but he felt no concern over that. He had no desire to rush her if she wasn’t ready and, truth be told, he wasn’t sure he was ready either. He had never given much thought to his general aversion to touching people, but he knew it was at play here. He didn’t mind Darcy touching him. In fact, he liked it greatly. However, he still felt that consummating the marriage would be decidedly more...messy. That was the word he had decided on. He hated messy things.

“What makes you so concerned this morning, husband?” Darcy asked sleepily.

He must have been so caught up in his thoughts that he missed her waking up. “Not concerned, just contemplating.”

She pulled away from him, stretching a bit before tucking herself back into place near him. “And what were you contemplating?”

He debated for a moment on whether or not to tell her. He didn’t like keeping things from her, in fact not telling her about his job was making him a bit anxious. Obviously this meant he didn’t have much of a choice. “I was thinking about the fact that we have not yet consummated our marriage,” he said quietly, not liking saying the words out loud. “I have no concerns that we have not,” he said quickly, not wanting her to get the wrong idea, “just merely considering the fact that we have not.”

Darcy did not speak at first. “I thank you for not forcing me on our wedding night,” she said slowly. “But I do not wish to make you upset with the pace at which I allow you liberties.”

“I’m not upset,” he said before she could go on. “Truly. We could stay this course for another year, and I would not be upset. I want to go at a pace that makes us both happy.”

“And I want to make  _ you _ happy,” she said, nuzzling his neck a bit. “I am not afraid,” she said, but the slight tremble in her voice said otherwise.

"It is not a matter of being afraid,” he said, pulling his arm from between them to around her shoulder. "It's a matter of being ready. Even if you say you are ready, I'd like to wait for I am...not." It was hard to admit but true. He hoped he hadn't diminished himself in her eyes.

"Oh," she said softly. "I am not either, so I suppose we can be not ready together."

He didn't realize how much he needed to hear that. It was reassuring that she didn't seem to be questioning his own reluctance. "Enough of that," he said, wanting to move on, "what do you wish to do today?"

"Spending the whole day in bed with you has some merits," she said, "but that will probably make your staff think I am lazy and encouraging you to be so as well."

He pulled her closer to him. "I don't think it would be much of a problem if we stayed abed a bit longer. We  _ are  _ newlyweds. There are allowances."

She laughed softly against his neck and he enjoyed the way it made his skin tingle. "If we are to stay abed a bit longer, I should like to kiss you some more." She tilted her head up to look at him, a playful smile on her lips.

He bent his head to hers, capturing her lips and kissing her joyfully. They had just started to deepen the kiss when there was a commotion downstairs. He pulled away from her and looked toward the door. “I think reality is demanding our attention,” he said with a sigh. Just as he was starting to pull away from Darcy, her door opened and her maid slipped in, closing the door behind her.

“Pardon me, ma’am,” she said before she had fully turned, then, when she saw him, she added, “sir.” She came a few steps further into the room. “I’d suggest both of you just stay put. Maybe even lock this door,” she said turning back to it.

“Why would we need to lock it?” Spencer asked, worried.

“Mrs. Lewis isn’t the sort to let a shut door stop her,” the maid said with a sigh that spoke of first hand knowledge.

“Is that what the noise is?” Darcy asked.

“Indeed. She is not taking the news that you are not home to visitors very well. I believe between the housekeeper and butler she’s about to be physically removed from the premises.”

Darcy sighed. “My mother is a nuisance.”

“A nuisance you need not concern yourself with if you do not wish. Didn’t she say I was going to hide you away? Perhaps I shall meet her expectations.”

He was gratified to see Darcy smile at this. He was also pleased that she seemed comfortable just being in bed with him while her maid was in the room. He had worried that she might have found that embarrassing. In fact, she was still mostly curled into his side. Her maid was looking through her dresses to find one for today.

“We should decide what we are doing today so Anna can pick a suitable dress. I was going to suggest we go shopping, but I am not sure if you want to leave the house, especially not when your mother has been causing a scene this morning.” He paused while Darcy considered this. “Also, William will be happy if I come back with insider knowledge of the color of your dress so he can bully me into dressing to complement what you wear.”

Darcy laughed softly at this. “As much as I am interested in what shopping with you would be like, it might not be the best of ideas, or at least not this morning. Perhaps in the afternoon?”

“I think you mean to judge my shopping and find me lacking, but nevertheless, if you wish to go shopping this afternoon, we shall, even if you might find me wanting.” He turned to the maid. “Anna, something that would be suitable for going out later if she decides to do so, please.” He need not have bothered for Anna was already pulling out a dove grey dress that he was certain would look lovely on Darcy. He pulled away from her some. “I should get dressed myself, dear. I’ll send William down to check the coast is clear before we head down to breakfast.” He kissed her on the forehead and left for his room.

William was already waiting for him. “Grey,’ he said cheekily. “She’s wearing grey.” William gave a small nod and turned to his closet, pulling out a dusty blue jacket that would pull out the undertones of his wife’s dress.

“A shave, sir?” William asked.

Spencer ran his hand over his chin. There was a little stubble there, but not overly so. “No. I think we shall wait until tomorrow,” he said. 

William made short work of dressing him and then checked on the disturbance. He came back with news that her mother had gone and breakfast was being laid out.

“Do you know any details or do I need to ask Mrs. Richards and Mr. Brooks?”

“I only know what they have told me. You’d be better asking for their first-hand accounts.”

Spencer nodded at this and went to collect Darcy. Their breakfast was simple and quiet, and they decided to look over the invitations that had arrived and hear about her mother’s visit. They retired to the study, Mrs. Richards and Mr. Brooks following them.

He let Darcy take his seat at the desk, standing behind her as they listened to the tale of the morning’s disturbance. 

“I attempted to deny her entry at the door, but she pushed her way past me. I didn’t want to lay hands on her, at least not in full view of the street, so I allowed this,” Mr. Brooks said. “However, I motioned to one of the boys to stand near the foot of the staircase in case she decided to try and head upstairs. This turned out to be a good idea because she did attempt that later.”

“I was heading into the hallway when I heard the door,” Mrs. Richards continued, “and I informed her you were not home to visitors. She tried to argue that she was not a visitor, but family, but I stayed firm that you were not at home. She demanded to speak with you, Ma’am, in order to ‘prove’ that I was telling the truth, but I just repeated you were not home to visitors. Then she tried to say that it was something very important she needed to speak with you about. I told her she could write you a note that I would deliver to you, and that’s when she started hollerin’.”

“That is also when she tried to gain the stairs,” Mr. Brooks took over once again. “Bradley, the footman, that is, stood in front of her, refusing to budge. She tried to push him out of the way, at which point I did pull her back and effectively drag her to the door.”

“That’s when she really started being loud. She kept telling him to take his hands off her, but when I asked if she would leave on her own, she said no, so I told him to throw her out.”

“I did not want to drag her through the house, lest you be up and she come across you, so I put her back out the front door. She yelled the entire time.”

Spencer was dismayed at what all had happened. “Give Bradley a paid day off for his trouble. Any day of his choosing next week,” Spencer said immediately, already calculating how much of a bonus to give the housekeeper and butler.

“I am sorry that my mother has caused you such difficulties,” Darcy said. “I would like her to be barred from entering the house until I hear an apology from her. You do not need to even allow her in the foyer.” He was happy to hear Darcy not only acting like his home was hers as well, but also with such decisiveness about her mother. She turned and looked up at him. “I think we had better go out today after all.” She looked back to Mr. Brooks. “How soon can we have a carriage ready?”

“No time at all, Ma’am.”

“We shall depart within the half hour,” she declared. “We will look over the invitations when we return.”

Mrs. Richards and Mr. Brooks took that for a dismissal. Once the door was shut again, she looked at him. “I know my mother. She will be out spreading gossip and half truths about what happened this morning. We need to go out and be seen and counter her words with our own.”

“I love how smart you are,” he said aloud instead of in his head.

She blushed, and he almost said he loved when she did that too, but just barely refrained. “I should grab my things,” she said instead, standing. “We should be going so we can set the story straight.” She started for the door then turned back to him. “You were the one to suggest shopping. Was there somewhere you wished to go?”

“They way you were curled up against me this morning, I thought you might be cold. I thought we could look for another quilt for your bed.”

“Oh,” she said, that blush coming to her cheeks again. “I’m not sure that I was cold, but rather just enjoyed being curled against you.”

“Oh,” he replied somewhat stupidly. “I suppose you don’t need another blanket then.”

“We can still look,” she said gracefully. “I know just the place that will also be perfect for being seen.”

As she left the room, Spencer couldn’t help but smile.

Less than an hour after they had heard about her mother’s visit, Spencer and Darcy were walking around Gardiner’s Emporium. He had never been here and found that he wished he had been. There were items from all over the world ranging from bolts of fabric to spices to books. He was excited to take some time in the foreign language books, but he was diligently following Darcy for she seemed to know all the tiny hiding places where they would find a new treasure. So far they had selected two new teas to try and she promised she was leading him to where they could procure a new quilt. But before they could get there, they ran into Will.

“Spencer!” Will said jovially. “I didn’t expect to see you out and about yet! Is this your new wife?”

“Darcy, this is my good friend Will LaMontagne. He is married to Jennifer, who I believe you have met? Will, this is Darcy, my wife.” He knew he had to have the largest smile on his face, introducing her as such, but he couldn’t be upset.

“Very nice to meet you,” Will said with a small bow. “I’ve heard lovely things about you.”

“How is your wife?” Darcy asked. “She seemed close to her confinement.”

“That she is,” Will said. “I came here for her favorite ginger candies which she claims are the only thing that make her feel good right now.” He held up a small bag of presumably the candies in question. “But truly, I am surprised. I thought you would keep to yourselves for a week at least before we saw you.”

“I would have liked that,” Darcy said with an easy smile before leaning forward and whispering, “but we are on a mission to counter some gossip that is sure to be spreading.”

“Oh?” Will asked. “I might not be the best for such endeavors, but I’d love to be of service.”

“You are right that we were not home to callers. Completely understandable, I believe, but my mother thought that should preclude her. What she could want at the early hour she presented herself, I do not know, but I  _ do _ know that she treated our staff terribly and tried to force her way into our rooms. She was shown out by our overly burdened butler, making quite the scene the entire time.”

Spencer watched as Will took in Darcy’s revelation. “She wanted to intrude on the bedchambers of newlyweds?” he asked, aghast.

Spencer nodded his confirmation. “She made quite the scene doing so, according to our staff who shielded us from it.”

“That’s….that’s unhinged. No wonder you rushed the wedding. I can’t imagine leaving JJ in a house like that when I knew I had the ability to get her out of it sooner.” He looked at Spencer, and suddenly the genius in Darcy’s idea was clear. Not only would sharing their side counteract her mother’s story, but it would also give a reason for the accelerated wedding. They bid Will a quick goodbye so he could get back to his wife.

They were sorting through some very soft quilts when he heard Darcy say hello to Lord Coulson. “Mrs. Reid!” he said, “it’s been an age.”

“Lord Coulson,” she said with a smile, “have you met my husband?”

“I have,” Coulson said, turning to him. “Though he did turn down my last invitation.”

“My mother,” he started to say, but Coulson cut him off.

“I am only teasing. Besides, I can harbor no hard feelings when Darcy likes you so much. She is a favorite of mine.”

“A favorite whose sheet music you have yet to return.”

“I believe it was  _ you _ that left it at my house.”

Darcy turned to him. “I spent a week at his home while my father was doing some work for him. I still believe he hid the music because I was practicing it relentlessly for most of the week and he grew tired of it.”

“Hearsay,” he said, but there was a twinkle in his eye. “And if you accept my dinner invitation you can collect it.”

Spencer thought about what he knew of Lord Coulson. The man also did covert work, and as far as he was aware, was considered unquestionably loyal to the crown. He wondered what Lord Coulson thought of Dr. Banner and Darcy. If he didn’t doubt them, surely that meant they were not the enemy.

“We’ll see,” Darcy said with her own sparkling eyes. “We received many invitations and have yet to go through them. That is our activity for this afternoon.”

“It is nice to see you well situated, Darcy. Mr. Reid is a good man. And Mr. Reid, I hope  you see the prize you have in Darcy.”

“I do, sir,” he said, enjoying the way the tips of her ears turned pink at his response.

They spent several more minutes before deciding on a quilt and (finally) moving over to the books. Darcy showed him to the foreign language books, and he picked up a title he was very familiar with. “Have you read this?” he asked her.

“Yes, but not in the original French. I read the translation.”

“I did that,” he said, placing the book back on the shelf. “Most of my work is translation.” This was true. He did get paid to translate. Some of it was for public consumption and some decidedly not.

He had piqued her interest. “Is it hard work? Finding just the right word to convey what they are saying? I know from my own studies that sometimes words don’t mean quite the same thing.”

“It can be,” he said with a nod. “The climax of that particular novel took me a week to properly translate, but I think I did it justice in the end.”

“I want to know all about it,” she said excitedly. “How many books are in our library that you have translated?”

He enjoyed hearing her refer to their home as hers. “Many,” he admitted. He liked having copies of his work. “I can show you when we go home.”

She sighed happily. “That sounds delightful.”

“Well hello Reids,” a new voice said. “I cannot say it’s a surprise to find you in this portion of the store.”

“Penelope,” Darcy said with a smile. “I feel like it’s been days since I last saw you.” She looked shrewdly at his friend. “Do you perhaps have news to share?”

Penelope’s face split into a smile. “I do. Mr. Morgan and I are engaged.”

Darcy let out a little squeal and hugged Penelope while showering her in congratulations.

“It’s about time,” he said, giving his friend a quick hug as well.

“But enough about me,” Penelope said, “I hear you two had an eventful morning?”

Spencer was not surprised that she had already heard about it. He wondered at her ability to know everything about everyone at almost the minute it happened. It was no wonder Lord Hotchner relied on her to fill him in on anyone and everyone. He’d have to ask her about Darcy’s father. He was certain Penelope would have warned him if she had known anything about her father or Dr. Banner.

“Don’t you worry,” Penelope was saying, as he realized the conversation had gone on while he was thinking, “I’ll make sure your side gets spread as it should.”

“Will you be calling later this week?” he asked, hoping they hadn’t noticed his inattention.

“As soon as you’re home to callers again, yes.”

They bid Penelope a good day and continued looking over the books. He encouraged Darcy to pick out a few titles she was interested in, only stopping her when he already owned what she was looking at. Once she had several volumes in her hands, they made their way back to the front for their teas and quilt. In no time they were heading back home.

“That was very successful,” she said as their carriage rolled along the city streets. 

“It was,” he agreed, “because my very clever wife is very clever.” He reached out and took her hand. “I shall forever thank fate for telling me to try reading in the moonlight the night we met.”

“Even after my mother this morning?” she asked. He could hear the concern in the way her voice was pitched higher than normal.

“You are not your mother,” he argued. Just like he was not his father, the wastrel. The carriage came to a stop and he handed her out. They did not speak again until they were back in his study, a pile of invitations sitting on his desk.

“I thank you for realizing I am not my mother,” she said. “There are some that would consider my family an extension of myself, which would not be bad if they thought of my father instead of my mother.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard much about him,” Spencer said, wondering if she might open up.

Darcy rang for tea before speaking again. “My father was not terribly social. He’d rather be in a library or his lab than a ballroom. He was somewhat like you in that regard.”

“His lab?” Spencer asked.

“My father was a chemist and inventor. He loved testing things and making new things. It was a great joy to sit and watch him tinker. My mother hated how his fingers were always dirty with ink and grease, but I thought nothing of it. He was great friends with Jane’s father, Erik. He made them a series of lenses for their telescope for Jane’s coming out that my mother thought ridiculous, but they both loved. Jane told me the lenses had been very useful on this last trip, and Prince Thor was disheartened to hear my father had passed as he was going to commission some more lenses as a wedding gift.”

“Dr. Banner is also a chemist, yes?”

Darcy nodded. “As well as a biologist. He doesn’t enjoy building things the way my father does...did.” She cleared her throat. “One time he made me a little mechanical bird that would open and close its wings. I wish I still had it.”

“What happened to it?”

Darcy sighed and rolled her eyes. “My mother had a fit when she heard about my father’s death. She threw everything that was within reach, including the bird. I think she did it on purpose. Everything she broke was something he liked or made. She only seemed to tolerate his inventions.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Spencer said at a loss for what else he could say to comfort her. He could felt as though there was something he should be seeing with what she had said, but he pushed that thought away to focus on Darcy. “I wish I could have met him. He sounds like he was a wonderful man.”

“I think he would have liked you very much indeed,” she said with a sad smile. “He would not have turned you down, I do not think.”

“Not like Mr. Boothby?” Spencer asked.

“How did you know about that?” Darcy asked, her face a perfect mask of surprise.

“I’m friends with Penelope Garcia,” he said simply.

Darcy laughed. “I suppose that would explain it. She  _ does _ seem to know everything.”

“Which is to our advantage this morning,” he said as the tea was delivered.

Darcy bustled about serving their tea while he began to open the stack of invitations. He quickly discarded several before passing the others on to her. “Go ahead and remove any you are uninterested in. We’ll go through what’s left together.”

“You’re letting me blanket decline even if you were interested?” she asked.

“Of course,” he said, somewhat surprised by her question. “If you don’t wish to attend, then that’s that.”

She hummed happily as she sorted through the cards, only removing two by the time she had finished the pile. “It was kind of exhilarating knowing I could say no simply because I wanted to,” she said quietly. “I’ve never had that freedom before. My mother made me attend many dinners I had no interest in.”

“I am not interested in torturing you, dear,” he said, taking back the remaining invitations.

She got up and moved to his side so she could kiss his cheek. “You are the best husband I could have asked for.”

“Sounds as if you have low standards,” he joked.

“Me?” she asked, putting on a haughty voice. “Why, nothing but the best for me. And that, dear, is you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had already written the next chapter, but the more I read it, the more it didn't work, so now I am revising it. However, I have 2 major final projects due this week and a full day oncology consultation for my dog, so I might not get to spend the time on chapter 11 that I need to. Consider this your fair warning that I might have to take a week off before you get another chapter. I'm super sorry (I thought the 10 chapter buffer would have served me better than it did when I started posting!). I promise I have the rest of the story outline, though, and know exactly where we are going.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy shares some secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, but hopefully everyone will enjoy this chapter. I re-wrote it, and I'm much happier with this version than the previous.
> 
> Many thanks to Dresupi for always making my writing better.

Before she knew it, Darcy had been married nearly three weeks. Life with Spencer was much better than life with her mother, though she still felt some guilt at thinking so. They had fallen into a routine that felt familiar and comfortable. He had steady work with his translations that he would see to in the morning while she met with Mrs. Richards and discussed household issues and practiced pianoforte. In the afternoons they would read in the library, go for walks, or call on friends. At night they occasionally accepted invitations, but also enjoyed keeping to themselves. 

Jane’s wedding was just two weeks away, and that meant she would be leaving on the morrow. Because it was being held in Norway, Darcy wouldn’t be able to attend, so the time she had left with her friend was precious. They knew their time together was short, so for the previous week and a half, not a day had gone by where the two friends weren’t in each other’s company, sometimes with Thor, sometimes not. Today the two of them were alone in the garden cutting flowers.

Jane set her basket down and sat on the stone bench near the bed of flowers. “Darcy,” she asked cautiously, “is the wedding night so very terrible?”

Darcy stilled. Jane’s mother had passed several years before, and she had no other female relations. Of course there was no one else she could trust to ask this question. Darcy placed her own basket down and took a seat next to Jane. “I cannot tell you,” she confessed.

“I am to be married.  _ Someone _ must tell me,” Jane said, distraught.

“I would that I could tell you,” Darcy tried again. “But, well…,” she dropped her voice very low, “my husband and I have not yet consummated our marriage.”

Jane turned to look at Darcy. “Truly?” she asked. “But you seem so smitten with one another.”

Darcy nodded. “I was not… properly prepared on our wedding night. I have told no one about this, save Spencer this, but the night that man broke into the house he… he didn’t  _ just _ accost me.” Jane sucked in an audible breath. “He didn’t get to do all that he desired,” Darcy rushed to add, “but he did steal some liberties. Spencer has been most kind about not pushing me.” She thought back to the night she had told him in broken sentences about how the intruder had touched her and forced himself on her, and how her dear Spencer had held her close and promised he didn’t think any differently of her and would never want to make her feel that way.

“But that was over a month ago,” Jane said. “Surely this goes beyond his patience.”

Darcy pursed her lips. She wouldn’t dare mention her husband’s own reticence. “He is the very best of men and exceedingly understanding,” she settled on. “Though I do wish there was more I could do for him to show my appreciation.”

“Well you  _ could _ …,” Jane said, a sly smile on her face. Darcy swatted her arm.

“You’re too much,” she laughed. “And I am sorry I cannot give you guidance about your wedding night. I believe Thor loves you, so trust him to guide you and tell him your worries. I am sure he will be kind and gentle.”

“It’s vexing not to know more,” Jane sighed, “but I thank you for telling me your secret.” She paused and then asked, “But did your mother not tell you anything about what to expect?”

Darcy pursed her lips. “She told me some, but not all she wanted to since we accelerated the wedding without informing her. In truth, I had pushed her off whenever she wanted to continue the conversation because of how poorly the first discussion went.”

“Surely what she shared is better than my ignorance,” Jane said plaintively.

“I’m not sure about that,” Darcy replied, “but I will tell you if you wish it.”

“I do.”

Darcy nodded. “She told me that a husband will pay attentions to you upon your wedding night and again from then on whenever he wishes it. She said that those attentions will hurt and seem surprising, but the experience often needn’t be prolonged. Her suggestion was to lay very still and let it happen. She then said you should go back to your own quarters because remaining with him will only encourage more attentions.” Darcy looked at Jane who had gone a bit pale at this recitation. “But do not fear, Jane. I do believe that she is wrong. Spencer and I spend nights in each other’s company and he is always very solicitous of my feelings. In truth, I find it exceptionally nice to sleep next to him.” She blushed at her own boldness in sharing this.

“I suppose I should remember that your mother and father did not love each other and surely that must affect how it was,” Jane said trying to reason her way out of her fear.

“Absolutely,” Darcy agreed. “I would think that mutual affection can make everything much better. You enjoy when Prince Thor kisses you, correct?” Jane nodded. “Then it should be like an extension of that. Or, so I assume based on my own experiences.”

Jane smiled at her and they sat quietly in the sunshine for a moment before Darcy became restless about the other topic she wished to discuss with her friend before Jane was only reachable by letter. She twisted her gloves in her hand. “There is another secret I’d tell you before you are gone,” she said, nervous for Jane’s response.

Her friend placed a hand on top of hers, subduing their movement. “Do not ruin a fine pair of gloves. You know I could never be cross with you.”

“It’s about my father,” Darcy said, relaxing a bit. “You know about the dowry, but I did not tell you about what Bruce shared when he revealed it.” She looked to Jane who silently encouraged her to continue. “The money came from Bruce selling an invention for my father prior to his death. He apparently thought his time might be short.” Jane sucked in a breath, but said nothing. “And that is not all. He also gave me a notebook before his death. He told me to keep it safe and not tell my mother about it. I now think this was also because he knew that someone was planning his death.”

“Darcy,” Jane said, squeezing her hands, “I’m so sorry. What have you done? How can I help?”

“I’ve done nothing other than keep his notebook safe. I don’t know what to do or who to tell.”

“Have you told Spencer?” Jane asked. Darcy shook her head. “You should tell him. That notebook is important enough that your father died for it. Talk to your husband. He will know what to do.”

“Thank you Jane.” Darcy threw her arms around her friend, pulling her close. “I’m going to miss you when you’re gone. You always know just what to say and do.”

Jane returned the hug. “I shall miss you too,” she said, her voice thick as she started to cry. Darcy began to cry as well.

“Look at us,” Darcy said, finally pulling away. “We’ve made such a mess of ourselves.” She stood and grabbed her basket. “Come, let us go freshen up so I can become a crying mess again when it is time for you to go.” They walked arm in arm back to the house, depositing their baskets and scissors with the maid, Darcy assuring her they would be back soon to arrange the flowers.

Upstairs, Anna was quickly dispatched to get a bowl of water, cloth, and soap so they could clean up a bit before they arranged their flowers. 

“This was just delivered, Ma’am,” she said when she returned, handing Darcy a small package. “Apparently Mr. Reid thought of you while out today.”

Darcy smiled and unwrapped the small package to reveal a soap that smelled of anise. “Oh!” she said, smiling, “What a delight! I wonder why he picked this scent. I shall have to ask him.”

Jane came and smelled the soap, but declined using it since it was a special gift for Darcy. Soon the women felt clean and the evidence of their tears had been washed away. They made their way back downstairs to pass their final hour together in quiet conversation. There were more tears and promises of letters when Jane left. Darcy laughed that she had to wash up twice in one day due to tears over Jane. She was going to miss her friend dearly.

Darcy had planned to tell Spencer about the notebook that night, but by the time supper came, she felt heavy and tired, no doubt because of all the crying and emotional turmoil from her last day with Jane. The meal had been subdued, and Spencer insisted that Darcy head straight to bed. She was so exhausted that she didn’t argue.

The next morning she awoke to Spencer already awake, watching her. “Are you feeling better?” he asked, concern etching his brow. 

“I am,” she told him. “Truly I think all the excitement of yesterday simply overwhelmed me.” He kissed her temple but made no effort to leave the bed. “Don’t you have a meeting this morning?”

“Trying to be rid of me?” he teased.

“I just don’t want to be the cause of your tardiness.”

He leaned in and kissed her softly and gently. “No need to worry about that. I rescheduled so I could spend the day with you. I thought you might be sad now that Jane has left, and I wanted to cheer you up.”

She smiled and pressed her lips to his, punctuating each word with a kiss between it. “You spoil me, husband.”

He cradled her head in his hands as he deepened the kiss, moving from playful to romantic as she wound her hands around his shoulders and laughed as he started to trail kisses down her neck, tickling her. He had been more playful, of late, and it delighted her. She scratched her nails into his hair and he hummed a bit at her touch. Nuzzling the hollow of her neck, he asked, “How would you wish to be distracted from your sadness today?”

She felt her cheeks run hot at the thought of all the things they had yet to do that she felt herself wanting but was too self-conscious to ask for. Besides, he likely wasn’t ready himself. She didn’t want to push him. In any case, there was something still bothering her. She thought back to how she hadn’t shared her secret with him yet. It was taking up space in her mind, and she wanted to be relieved of it. “I was hoping we could talk a bit?” she said, annoyed it had come out so tentative.

“Of course,” he agreed, settling back into the pillows, giving his full attention to her. He wound his fingers with hers. “What did you want to discuss?”

“There’s something I have kept from you,” she said haltingly. “A secret I was asked to keep that I no longer wish to keep from you.” She felt the way he stiffened slightly next to her, but pressed on. “Before he died, my father left me something.” He relaxed a little. “He told me to hide it away and not tell my mother about it. I know she is not the best of people, but I still don’t know why he didn’t want her to know about it,” she mused. “It’s my most prized possession,” she continued. “His notebook is all I have left of him.”

“His notebook?” Spencer asked.

Darcy nodded. “He gave it to me a week before he died. It has plans, both complete and incomplete, for many inventions. When I flip through it, it’s like I am back in his lab sitting next to him while he patiently explains his process to me.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I miss him so much,” she whispered. “I know he would have loved you, and it saddens me that you will never know him.”

Spencer rubbed her arm, pulling her closer as he did so. He cleared his throat and attempted to speak twice before he finally said, “I wish I could have met him.” They sat like that a moment longer before he continued on. “I probably should not tell you this, but you’ve already guessed at what I do. I’ve been translating coded messages, and the group we are tracking, they have been looking for a notebook.” She could hear the slight tremor in his voice as he shared. While she knew some about his work, she had felt it best to not pry. Him sharing this was a show of trust.  “And we know they were behind the break in at your mother’s house.”

“You think they…?” she trailed off, the thought almost too much to consider.

“I do,” he said. “That is why I’m telling you.”

They both sat quietly for a moment while she contemplated this new development. His thumb traced lazy circles on her skin, keeping her grounded. Was it possible? And if so, what did that mean? What should she do? “Does that mean you must tell Sir Hotchner about my notebook?” she asked, somewhat dreading the answer. While she could not say she liked the man, she had learned to respect him. She could not help but feel he was constantly judging and evaluating her, but she supposed his line of business made that an important skill. Trusting the wrong person could lead to your death. It was something she worried about constantly with Natasha, even though the woman had only let slip tiny bits of what she did.

She appreciated that Spencer did not answer right away. “No,” he finally said. “I will leave that up to you. It is your own secret that you are protecting. I will not force you to share it.” She relaxed a bit at his decision. While she still had a choice to make, he would support her in whatever she decided.

“Does it affect your work greatly, not knowing where the notebook is?” she asked, trying to come to her own choice. “Will it make the country safer if we tell him?”

“It might,” he allowed, “but it might put you at greater risk.” He kissed her hairline. “Don’t decide now. Take your time to think about it. We can discuss the matter later.” She settled comfortably against him, certain that together they would make the best possible choice.

“Would you like to see it?” she asked softly. “The notebook, I mean?” She felt exposed, asking him this. The notebook had been her secret for so long, but it was important to her. She wanted to share this piece of her father with him, and she hoped he wanted to share that with her.

“I would. I think it might allow me to know your father, in a sense. But you can show it to me at your leisure.”

“After breakfast,” she said, a spur of the moment decision.

“I suppose that means I should let you out of this bed so you can get dressed,” he said with an exaggerated sigh. 

She thought about pretending she wasn’t hungry so she could spend more time with him. Lately it had felt like they were dancing closer and closer to making their marriage official, and she thought she might be in a fit state for that to happen. But her stomach let out a grumble, and she knew that she wouldn’t be able to pretend he hadn’t heard it. “I suppose so,” she said. “Though, for the record, I would have liked to have spent more time here with you.”

He squeezed her hand before releasing it. “I’ll keep that in mind. Maybe we will have to make it an early evening.”

She blushed and did not trust herself to say more, so she rose from the bed and made her way back to her room. Anna was already there, a mint green gown prepared for her. She dressed quickly, arriving to the dining room before Spencer.

“In a hurry?” he asked when he arrived to find her already sitting at the table, her plate full. 

“Just hungry,” she said, smiling over her cup of tea.  She had felt vaguely ill the previous night in addition to tired, so she hadn’t eaten much, and now she was making up for it. 

They had a unhurried breakfast while Spencer tried to coax some more plans for the day out of her. Eventually they decided upon looking at the notebook (which they discussed vaguely so as to keep it a secret), going for a walk in the park, and then spending a quiet evening together in the library. Darcy was surprised at how much she hoped that their quiet evening in the library turned out to be  _ more _ than just reading. In fact, she was shocked at how wanton she had become. She pushed those thoughts from her mind. They were something to be dealt with later. Right now she wanted to share memories of her father with her husband. 

When they left the dining room she bid him wait in his chambers while she retrieved the notebook from its hiding spot, and then called him in. They decided this was best because he would then not know the location of it and could say so truthfully if asked. He joined her on the window seat, pressed closely together, shoulder to shoulder, as she gently opened the notebook.

“My father had several notebooks,” she started. “I remember there being a shelf of them that slowly grew as time went on. He was meticulous about recording everything. Over time, though, they disappeared. I don’t know where they all went. I know that he worked for a variety of people, so it is possible they own his plans in addition to his creations. I suppose that also means that this notebook might not be the notebook being sought.”

She ran her fingers lightly over the page. “Were there any others left when he passed?” Spencer asked.

She shook her head. “This was the only one.” She looked down at the page. “These are his designs for the lenses for Jane’s telescope. He made her a total of five so she could view the stars in different ways.”  She paused, looking at the facing page. “He later used the same design for sights on long range guns that he had devised. I particularly hated that invention.” she said quietly. “It allowed for shooting with accuracy over a long distance. The addition of the lens just made it more deadly.”

“He shared that with you?” Spencer asked, his tone careful and even, his volume matching hers.

“He thought it was important I knew all the parts of his work.” She thought about the conversation for a moment and latched onto the memory. “Now that I recall, though, the phrasing was a bit odd. He said that he didn’t want to hide from me like he did so many others. He wanted me to know the true him.” She looked at Spencer. “Is that phrasing not strange?”

“Perhaps,” Spencer said, pausing to think a moment. “Though it is also possible that we are reading more into it now than he meant then. Perhaps he just meant that he couldn’t be himself around your mother. You did say they did not have a happy marriage.”

“You are probably correct,” Darcy agreed. “Sir Pierce arranged their marriage. My father was considered brilliant and wealthy from the sale of several inventions prior to his marriage. My mother was pretty and had some status. It was to be advantageous to them both because other families looked down on him for his mechanical ways.” She paused. “Of course my mother squandered much of the fortune buy spending beyond our means. By the time I was five we were no longer rich, though we were well cared for because my father had ongoing contracts that paid our bills. I think my mother resented that he had called on all the shops to end her ability to make purchases on credit. Honestly, I don’t know how she is still in the house as is. While her inheritance had been placed aside in the event of his death, it wasn’t much. I used it to take care of household expenses during our mourning period, but if she put a toe outside my budget after I left, it won’t last long. I think, though, that maybe Sir Pierce has been helping? She has always been close to him. He was friends with her father, Mr. Stane.”

“I don’t know, darling,” Spencer said. “Was the house left to her?”

“It was,” Darcy agreed. “I suppose that is good as we didn’t end up out on our own when he passed. But she should probably move into a smaller home now. It is only her, and a house that size has upkeep requirements.” She flushed, suddenly, realizing that it was probably odd to hear her speak so openly about money and her understanding of business.

Spencer trailed a finger down her cheek. “What makes you flush so?”

“I know it is not lady-like to know so much about finances,” she started.

“Nonsense,” Spencer said, cutting her off. “I prefer that you are aware of what it takes to run a household and the finances involved in it. It makes you practical. I can have honest, intellectual conversations with you if I need to, and I also know that you will be fine to run the budget should I pass before you. Don’t apologize for knowing things. It’s one of my favorite qualities about you.”

“Oh?” she asked. “Just one of your favorite things?”

“Are you fishing for compliments?” he asked, his voice getting low. “Because I can pay you pretty compliments.” He kissed the side of her mouth.

“I do not need to fish for them when you offer them so readily,” she said, turning to him and matching him with her own kiss to the side of his mouth. “Perhaps it is time I return the favor.” She kissed the other side of his mouth. “You are always so brilliant; your mind leaping to the next point before anyone else can start to conceive of a next point.” She began to kiss down his neck. “You astonish me every day with your generosity with the staff.” She moved to take his earlobe in her mouth, her teeth dragging slowly against the flesh in the way she had come to learn he liked. “You drive me to distraction whenever you’re in the room,” she said, a hot whisper in his ear. “When we are out, I often cannot wait until we are home again and I have you to myself once more.”

He gingerly took the notebook from her and closed it, placing it behind him on the seat before pulling her into his lap, his mouth over hers. His hands were at her waist, slowly trailing up toward her breasts. Her hands found his hair, fingers running through it as she arched into his touch. One hand moved around to the small of her back while the other cupped her breast tentatively. This was new, and she encouraged him to do more by moaning, his kisses muffling the sound. She wanted more, but wasn’t sure just what. Her hands slid down his chest, pushing under his jacket. She wanted to feel him; his skin against hers. She wanted his jacket off; his cravat; his shirt. The thought surprised her.

He must have felt her moment of surprise because the kiss ended. He pulled away, breathing a little heavily, looking at her. “I’m sorry. That got out of hand,” he said immediately. 

“I rather liked it,” she admitted, blushing furiously.

“Truly?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “Though it is fine if you think we went too far.”

“I don’t,” he said quickly. “I quite liked it too.” There was an awkward pause. “Perhaps this t is something we should revisit,” he said, licking his lips. “Perhaps not going any further, but certainly doing that again.” His eyes searched her face.

Darcy relaxed a bit, glad he wanted to continue as well. “I’d like that very much.”

Spencer cleared his throat and tried to fix his cravat, though it was a lost cause. He pulled the notebook back from behind him. “Tell me some more about your father? And what’s in his writings?” he asked, handing it back to her.

“I’d be delighted, she said, taking it from him and flipping until she found a page that she thought might interest him, preparing to share another story just as soon as she caught her breath and had full control of herself once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm behind on responding to comments. I'm going to try and fix that soon!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Spencer go visiting.

The morning spent in Darcy’s room had come as surprise to Spencer. He knew they had been working their way towards marital intimacy, but he was still shocked at how easily he gave in to the moment and how natural the progression felt. And to his amazement, he had wanted _ more _ . 

He had wanted to feel her skin under his fingers; run his hands over all the places that were hidden by her gowns. She had stilled for a moment during their kiss; it cleared the lust covering his mind, and he had pulled away before they went too far. He hadn’t wanted to push her. When she had admitted that she had also enjoyed it and wanted to continue, he realized they hadn’t talked in a while about the speed at which they were moving. He made a note to talk to her about it later when his veins weren’t still thrumming from her effect on him.

He listened as Darcy talked about her father. Though he was no inventor, Spencer did have an eye for mechanical drawings, and he could easily determine that Darcy’s father had been a genius. Most people would be lucky to have devised even one invention, but her father had made so many that it almost boggled the mind. There were a few spots where a disparate script would appear. Darcy informed him those notes belonged to Dr. Banner. 

Though the man had his own lab now, he had previously conducted most of his work at the Lewis household, which explained why Mr. Lewis had trusted him to look after Darcy and also why they were so close. When Spencer asked if Bruce would know the location of her notebook, she said that while he would be aware it existed, during the last month of her father’s life he hadn’t been around, so it was unlikely that he knew what had become of it. 

Spencer was happy that Bruce was unaware. Not that he didn’t trust the man, but rather, that it was one less person that had to worry about confessing should pressure be applied. Darcy had gone on to say that she knew that Banner and her father had not fought, so she was unsure the reason why he had disappeared. However, it now seemed likely that he had done so at her father’s request, traveling abroad to sell the invention that funded her dowry. 

As he looked at the pages of carefully annotated drawings and notes, he was struck by how truly  _ valuable _ this notebook was. It made sense why there were people willing to go to great lengths to find it. On one hand, there were plans for weapons (several of which he hoped dearly did not currently exist and never would). On the other, there were also plans for more peaceful items that would likely fetch just as high a price as the more destructive ones. This notebook had a lot to offer the one who held it. And currently, that holder was a woman who mainly prized it for the memories it summoned of her father. It was somewhat staggering once he put it all in perspective.

After spending nearly two hours looking at the notes and listening to his wife’s stories, Spencer left to fix his cravat and prepare for a stroll in the park while Darcy hid the notebook once more. It was obviously concealed somewhere in her room, and he wondered if even her maid knew its location. He remembered the night they married and how Anna had refused to share the note with Mrs. Lewis’s housekeeper because it “contained confidences.” He wondered if that was the former hiding location. If so, that meant that Anna didn’t know back then and was unlikely to know now. He hoped it remained that way. It could only keep Darcy— and her secret— safe.

William had pulled a face at the state of his cravat, but Spencer cheekily told him to take it up with Darcy, and his valet suddenly bore no quandaries. It was interesting how she had the entire staff, including his valet, wrapped around her finger. 

He met her just outside her door and they decided to walk the short distance to the park. She held onto his arm, and he wasn’t sure if he was imagining that she was closer to him than normal. It was probably his own awareness of her proximity he was noticing. And how she wasn’t nearly close enough for his liking. 

When they had first married, he had enjoyed her company but had no real desire to touch her or always be physically close to her. When she had been injured in the attack at her house, he had needed to feel her hand beneath his to know she was real and alive. Now he found himself always wanting to feel her whether it was while sitting next to each other on a settee or together in bed or her hand holding his arm; he  _ wanted _ to feel her. Her presence was a comfort that was in danger of becoming an addiction.

He wished he could recall all the details of their stroll in the park. He knew that they had exchanged pleasantries with several people and had taken in some nice views, but all he could remember was the gentle weight of her hand on his arm, the soft rustle of her skirts skimming his trouser leg, and her smile that he knew was only for him.  When they returned, there was no opportunity to follow Darcy back to her rooms to talk about what liberties she might want to share next because Sir Hotchner was announced as they were removing their coats. He shot Darcy a regretful look.

“Go,” she laughed. “You have done an admirable job consoling me. I think I shall be perfectly fine for a few hours.”

He watched her start to make her way up the stairs before turning to Hotch and showing him back to his study. He rang for tea, and unusually, Sir Hotchner had engaged him in small talk while they waited. When the tea things were finally delivered and they were alone, he got straight to the point.

“There was another break in last night.”

“Where?” Spencer asked.

“Dr. Banner’s house,” Hotch said. “We don’t know much about it. Lady Prentiss’s informant is the one that told us. His staff is very loyal, so the usual means of information collection were not possible.”

“What else do you know?” Spencer was still a bit unclear why he was being told about the break in, though it did lend credence to the idea that Darcy’s notebook was  _ the _ notebook being sought. Or, at the very least, one of several being sought. First her own house and now Banner’s. The connection seemed pretty clear.

“Very little,” Hotch admitted. “As I previously stated, his staff is very loyal. We assume that it is related to the notebook.”

“So what do you want from me?” Spencer asked. “Was there a message left or found that might help us?”

“No, we don’t need your translation abilities,” Hotch said, prevaricating for what Spencer thought might be the first time. He watched the man take a sip of tea in what seemed to almost be a nervous gesture. “We need your connections,” he finally said.

Spencer was sipping his tea when Hotch finally got to the point, but the cup stilled at his lips while he considered the statement. ”My connections?” he asked. “What connections?”

Hotch looked over at the closed door and then back to Spencer. “He is very close with  _ your _ wife, Mr. Reid.”

Spencer stared at him, still a little uncertain that he understood. “You want me to call on him? For what purpose?”

Sir Hotchner sighed. He knew the man thought he was being uncharacteristically slow, but he really didn’t understand. “To find out about the break in. Did they take anything. Was anyone harmed. Those sorts of things.”

“I’m...I’m a translator,” he finally said. “How am I supposed to interrogate the man that is like a second father to my wife? That could be harmful to my marriage  _ and _ my friendship with Dr. Banner.”

“You’ll need to figure it out,” Hotch said, standing. "You’re the only one that can do this.”

Spencer watched the man stand and take his leave, reeling at his new assignment. His mind was running on a useless loop, but he finally stood up and headed upstairs. As he was going up the stairs, Darcy was coming down.

“Oh!” she said, surprised. “I had thought you would be sequestered with Sir Hotchner for several hours yet.” 

“I had as well,” he admitted, suddenly realizing what he should do. “Are you busy with something? Do you have time to speak with me?”

“I was just going to practice pianoforte,” she said, “but that can wait.”

“Come,” he said, offering his arm, “let us go to the study.” It was a short walk to his study, but they did not speak. Once the door was closed, she immediately turned to him.

“Something has happened.” She wrung her hands a bit. “Is it bad?”

“I do not know,” he admitted. “That is what I have been tasked with finding out. And I am hoping, something you will be able to help me with.”

She looked at him warily, and he realized she must think this was about the notebook. It kind of was, but not in the way she was thinking. “It’s about Dr. Banner,” he said.

“Oh,” she replied, almost deflating into a chair. “Is he well?”

“There was a break in last night at his house, but we don’t know any further details, including if he was injured.”

She immediately stood back up. “We must go to see him at once!” She was already moving toward the door.

He took her hands and stopped her forward motion. “Yes, but we cannot let him know that we know what happened.”

“Whyever not?”

“Because a spy network is how I came to this information, and we know so little because no one in his household is talking. There is no way for us to have learned of this break in.”

He watched her consider what he said. “We need to visit so you can find out what happened,” she said, realization coloring her words. “Obviously I need to go as well to help. It seems plausible.”

“But also because you have a way with putting people at ease and getting them to talk,” he added. “I won’t tell you to do this, but I will ask.”

“You don’t need to do either,” she said, her face fierce in a way that made him want to let her wreck him. “I am demanding I go with you.” Her eyes sparkled like she would destroy anyone that dared to stop her. He had to tamp down the feelings that made him want to take her in his arms and see just how all that passionate energy could be directed.

“We should get dressed to go calling, then,” he said, quickly opening the study door. She strode out ahead of him, and the determined line of her neck had him momentarily rooted in the spot before hurrying off to order the carriage made ready and following after her.

The ride to Dr. Banner’s house was quick, and Spencer found that his mind kept thinking about how Darcy’s strength had been arousing instead of making a plan of attack for their meeting. They were already walking to the door when he realized he didn’t have a clue why they would say they were calling.

They were shown to a small sitting room, and Dr. Banner joined them in just a few quick minutes. “Darcy! Spencer!” he said jovially. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I was telling Spencer about father,” Darcy said. “I thought you might have some stories to share that might help him create a better picture of him.”

He could have sworn Bruce looked nervous for a moment, but the flash was gone quickly. “Of course,” he smiled. “Is there anything in particular you’d like to know?”

“Darcy has been telling me about how he was an inventor and you would often work with him. She said that being in his lab was fascinating. Could you tell me a bit about that?” He hoped that Bruce would ease into the discussion and bring up the notebooks. Perhaps that might also lead to the discussion of the break in.

“Ahhh. I see.” He took his glasses off and cleaned them before beginning. “Mr. Lewis and I had become friends at Cambridge,” he said. “We found a similar interest in learning about the world and studying it and making things to enhance it. When we graduated, he immediately had the workshop built in his house and invited me to come work with him. As bachelors, we would keep ridiculous hours, never stopping until sleep or hunger forced us to move on from the work we were doing. In fact, that was why Sir Pierce took it upon himself to procure a match for him. He rarely left his lab in order to meet people. He wasn’t all that interested. Of course, he also had a steady stream of widows and unhappily married women that seemed to enjoy calling on him, but those aren’t women you marry. “ Bruce colored as he realized what he had just disclosed in mixed company.

“I didn’t know my father had been so….popular,” Darcy said, struggling a bit for the right word.

“Before he married your mother, he was oddly social. He never went to dances, but people loved to talk to him because he had a way of making people feel special. He had plenty of dinner invitations, but his work always came first, so he accepted on whims. He never replied and just showed up if he realized he had an invitation for the night and needed a break from the work. Of course, once he married, all of his social behavior stopped completely and he spent essentially all of his time in his lab.”

“Why did he marry at all?” Darcy asked. He could tell she dearly wanted to know the answer because the picture Dr. Banner created was much different from her own experiences. 

“I’m not certain. I just know that when he became engaged, he treated it as something he had been told to do. He hated being told to do things.” Bruce sighed “But that is no matter. He loved working with his hands, and so retreating into his workshop always made him happy. That and you, dear,” he said to Darcy. “He loved you very much.”

Darcy smiled softly at this. “Can we go to the library?” she asked. “I know you have a few of his mechanical toys on display in there.”

Dr. Banner frowned. “I do,” he hedged, “but there was an...incident last night. I’m still in the process of cleaning up.”

“What happened?” Darcy asked. Spencer thought the question sounded completely innocent  and was grateful she had asked it because he wasn’t sure he could have sounded as genuine as her.

Bruce pushed up his glasses in what Spencer thought must be a nervous gesture because they were not slipping. “There was a break in,” Bruce admitted.

Darcy gasped. “Are you alright? Was anything taken?”

“I’m fine and so is my staff,” Bruce said immediately. “I do not believe anything was taken, but I am still taking stock.”

“What could they have wanted?” Spencer asked, hoping he didn’t sound overly interested.

“I’m not sure,” Bruce sighed. “They never left the library. They smashed one of the windows and started rummaging through the bookcases. My staff was there quickly, so they didn’t get far, but there are papers everywhere and we are still cleaning the glass. There is only a cloth over the broken window, but I am hoping it will soon be repaired.”

“That’s what happened with me,” Darcy said quietly, and suddenly Spencer was filled with memories of seeing her the morning after the attack and her confession a couple weeks ago about what had transpired. He felt the rage start to simmer under his skin that the man had posted bail and promptly disappeared back into the underbelly of London.

“I don’t believe you told me much about that night,” Bruce said gently.

“The man...he was going through our bookcase too. He didn’t seem interested in leaving the room. What man breaks into a home to steal books?” Spencer was fully aware of how carefully Darcy was speaking, not wanting to tip her mind too much back into those memories.

“What kind of man indeed,” Bruce said, but Spencer could tell that he had an idea exactly what kind of man and what he might be looking for. “But nothing was taken?” he asked, trying to verify.

Bruce shook his head. “I don’t have a precise accounting of each item in my library, but I do not believe any items we missing. In fact, most were discarded onto the floor and are currently in the process of being checked for needed repairs.”

“I’m so sorry Bruce,” Darcy said, taking one of his hands. “If we had known you had such a terrible night, we wouldn’t have intruded.”

That’s exactly what they had done, but Spencer wasn’t about to say so.

“It’s fine, Darcy. It was actually nice to see you I’ve seen so little of you since you married.” He shot Spencer a look that was too wry to be taken seriously.

“We saw you just last week at Coulson’s,” Darcy playfully chided. “But we shall be on our way now so as not to disrupt your day any further. It sounds like you have much to do.” They stood.

“Please do visit us any time,” Spencer said, shaking Bruce’s hand.

“I just might take you up on that,” Dr. Banner smiled before seeing them back to the door.

Neither of them spoke again until the carriage was moving away from the house.

“They were looking for my notebook,” Darcy said as soon as the horse started trotting.

Spencer nodded. “I believe so.”

“Their intelligence isn’t very good, though. Both my father and Dr. Banner have always kept their notebooks in their workshops, typically under lock and key.”

Spencer sat back and thought about this. “I think that means that the group looking for the notebook never had a chance to step foot inside either man’s workshop, or, likely, even their house.” He thought for a moment. “Did your father ever allow anyone else into his lab?” 

Darcy nodded. “No. Even my mother technically wasn’t invited inside, though sometimes she would come drag him out to force him to go to some dinner or another.” She gave him a considering look. “Does this help?”

“Everything helps. That’s something we didn’t know, and it helps paint the overall picture. Unfortunately, the list of people that have never been in your father’s workshop, or Dr. Banner’s, is still quite large.”

Darcy fell silent, and so did Spencer, contemplating whether or not what he had learned necessitated a call on Sir Hotchner. It was probably better to err on the side of cautious and head out presently.

He told Darcy as much, and she disembarked from the carriage alone, he remained to continue on to share his news. Luckily, the meeting was brief. Hotch had found the information useful. He had bent the truth a touch so as not to break Darcy’s confidences nor alert his boss just what his wife knew, and he thought the entire thing had gone well. Well enough, in fact, to be daydreaming about his wife  and being with her in bed that night.

When he got home, he was informed a letter had arrived while he was out and had been left in his study. Curious, he went to see what it was before heading up to find Darcy.

He was surprised to find it was from Dr. Banner, quickly breaking the seal, wondering what the man could want so soon after their visit.

_ Mr. Reid, _

_ I know you did not just come to my home to hear stories about Mr. Lewis. I request your presence tomorrow at 11 so we may discuss your true motive in visiting today. _

_ Cordially, _

_ Dr. Bruce Banner _

Spencer paled a bit. That sounded rather like a demand that he had best acquiesce to. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy has interesting encounters with several people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take note that I've upped the rating as of this chapter.

By the time they had returned home, there wasn’t enough time to get into practicing pianoforte before Darcy needed to dress for supper, so she decided to go to the library to write to Jane. The room had been slightly rearranged so that her writing desk now fit more comfortably in the layout and allowed her a view out the window and into the garden. When she entered however, there was someone already occupying her writing chair.

“Natasha!” she said happily, “No one told me you were here.”

Her friend inclined her head to the side. “That is because they did not know.”

Darcy narrowed her eyes at the woman. “Nat…,” she said, drawing her friend’s name out, “Did you break into my home?”

“I did,” she said, her body showing no signs of remorse. “I don’t trust the staff here yet,” she added, which was actually a surprise. Natasha never gave explanations for her behavior.

“Are they untrustworthy?” she asked immediately.

“They haven’t  _ not _ been trustworthy,” Natasha said, “but that does not make it so.”

Darcy nodded. Natasha had always been very particular about what was and was not acceptable as evidence of authenticity. It was a delicate framework, and Darcy didn’t have the first idea of how Natasha balanced the information she gathered. “While I am pleased to see you, did you only come to test that you were able to sneak in or for some other reason?”

Natasha smiled. “I came to see you. The rest was just a bonus.” Darcy took a seat on the small couch near the writing desk, and Natasha moved to sit with her. “I was curious how you were doing now that Jane has left.”

“I’ve scarcely had time to miss her. Spencer canceled all his appointments so he could spend the day with me, and now you are here keeping me company. I’m sure I shall miss her dearly, but I also know that I have many people that care enough to see how I am, so I am very lucky indeed.”

Natasha nodded as Darcy spoke. “You’re good at getting under people’s skin,” she said. Before Darcy could protest the word choice, she added, “In a good way, Dearest. You are excellent at putting others at ease and making them like you. This is why so many men wanted to court you.”

“I wouldn’t say  _ so _ many,” Darcy said with a faint blush. “There was really only Ian, and then Sitwell and Rollins.”

“Those are the only ones you know about,” Natasha corrected. “Your father was petitioned by several other men, and he turned them all down saying you had not shared with him that you favored any of them.”

“I was a bit afraid to show favor toward any single person after what happened with Ian.” While courting, especially rejected proposals, was typically a private, quiet affair, that had not been the case with Ian.

Someone had found out about his rejected suit. She wasn’t certain how, but she thought that it was possibly her mother being indiscreet while talking to other mothers at some function or another. Ian had been mortified, but he also had not been the one vilified by the gossip. There were whispers about how Darcy thought she was better than him or how she thought herself only worthy of a man with a title. More salacious rumors abounded with her having a secret affair with some man or another. It had been dreadful. She had been very careful after that to never step a toe out of bounds whenever she could. Of course, some men took advantage of this. She had hidden in her fair share of libraries, and, of course, had run from Sitwell in the garden that fateful night she found Spencer.

“Men are vain creatures,” Natasha said, breaking into her remembrances. “They think that a woman breathing in their direction is a sign of interest.” She patted Darcy’s knee. “There were others. You just never knew about them because your father laughed them out of the house.”

“If you say so,” Darcy demurred.

“I do, but I shall not press you more since I can see it is making you uncomfortable. That was not my intention when I planned my visit.”

Darcy narrowed her eyes and considered Natasha. “You came to see if I was okay, but there’s something more. There is no doubt you are my friend, but normally, you would wait at least a few days. Something has happened and you wanted to check on me.”

Natasha gave Darcy an appreciative smile. “Very good,” she complimented. “There was another break in and I was worried about you.”

Darcy tried not to let on that she knew. “Oh?”

Natasha was having none of it. “I know you saw Bruce today. I’m certain he told you.”

“He did,” Darcy agreed. She paused to consider whether or not she should do what she was supposing. Natasha was reliable. The woman had— and kept— many secrets. Surely if there was anyone that could advise her about how to handle the notebook, it was Natasha. “Could I ask you a question? I find I need some guidance.”

“Is this related?” Natasha asked, peering at her.

“I believe so,” Darcy said. “I told Jane, and she told me to tell Spencer, so I did. And he told me he wouldn’t ask me to tell anyone else, but that I should think about it, so now I’m asking you.”

“I’ll need you to give me the information if you desire my expertise on whether it is something you should share.”

Darcy nodded in agreement and took a calming breath before starting. “Before he died, my father left me a notebook. Because I told Spencer about the book, he shared with me that there is a group that is looking for something similar. Given the burglary at my mother’s house and now the one at Dr. Banner’s, I think it is very likely that my notebook is the same as the one for which they are searching.” She looked at Natasha, who was still quiet as if waiting to see if Darcy would share more. “When I told Spencer, he said he wouldn’t tell anyone else, but that I should consider telling his superior because knowing the location, or at least that the notebook was safe, could help their investigation.”

“And what do you wish for advice on?” Natasha asked though it seemed more like she desired a confirmation rather than a deeper explanation.

“ _ If _ I should tell. On one hand, it could help keep the country safe. On the other hand, it could be very risky for me, which sounds petty and small, but I am worried that I am not able to protect it as it would require should several people know that I have it. I also fear that those who would protect the notebook will take it away from me for that reason, and I do not wish that either.”

Natasha sat quietly. They had been friends long enough that Darcy knew that she was considering everything that had just been shared. She appreciated that Natasha was always thinking things through before making a decision. “You do not need to tell anyone,” she finally said. “I will let it be known that it has been located and is safe, but I will not give a location nor use your name. No one needs to know these things in order to keep the country safe.”

“And that will be enough?” Darcy asked, unsure how it could really be that simple.

“It will be,” Natasha said, her voice so unquestionable that it put Darcy at ease.

“How will you let it be known?” Darcy asked without thinking. “Oh!” she exclaimed, realizing her folly. “You needn’t answer that. Of course, you have your ways.”

Natasha gave her a smile that was almost predatory. “I have a contact that I’ve been sharing information with. I will share with her.”

“And she’ll trust you?”

“I’ll make sure of it,” Natasha said. Darcy got the distinct impression that Natasha was planning something that involved more than just Darcy’s secret, but she was no good at playing spy games, she left it to the professionals. Natasha stood up and moved toward the back window that Darcy realized was open. “I will be going now. Take care of yourself, Darcy,’ she said, slipping out the window and closing it behind her. 

Darcy went over to the window and locked the latch behind her before checking all the other windows. All of them were still locked. She wondered how Natasha got in. She knew the one she had entered and exited through had also been locked. Certain that she would never know all of her friend’s secrets, she went upstairs to change for supper.

The next day, Spencer had to get back to work, which was just as well because she had things to attend to as well. There was a letter for Jane, several calls to return, and she would need a bath before they went to an engagement ball that night for Mr. Morgan and Miss Garcia. She also wanted to pick up a small gift for her friend to congratulate her on the occasion.

She was looking at stationary for both herself and Penelope when she heard a male voice call her name.

“Mrs. Reid! I haven’t seen you in ages,” he called.

She turned around to see Ian. “Mr. Boothby,” she said with a small incline of her head. “How do you do?”

“Fine thank you,” he said. His eyes darted around the store. “I had been hoping to see you. I had wanted to check in on you, but I never seem to see you without your husband.”

She was a little put off by his phrasing. “We do like to attend outings together,” she said, unsure how to take his words.

“Of course,” he replied immediately before dropping his voice low. “It’s just I was worried about you and had hoped to call on you without his presence to influence your words.”

“Pardon?” she said, trying to stay civil. He was certainly implying something that she did not want to hear or have others overhear.

Ian stepped closer to her. “I have learned some distressing news about your husband, and it has made me very concerned for you.” Darcy leveled him with what she hoped was an unimpressed look that would encourage him to speak already. “It is about his first fiance, Miss Donovan.”

“What about her?” Darcy asked.

His eyes furtively shot around once more. “Apparently her mysterious illness wasn’t much of a mystery. It was just covered up by some of his more influential friends.” Darcy wasn’t sure what to say, so she stayed quiet, expecting him to go on, which he did. “She was actually poisoned. Mr. Reid, of course, was the one who poisoned her.”

Darcy looked at him, aghast. What a horrible thing to accuse Spencer of! “What did he have to gain from this devious crime?” she asked, trying to pull out the absurdity of the statement.

“The house his mother lives in,” Ian answered readily. “Miss Donovan was the last in her family, and her will had been changed a few days into her illness to have him inherit everything. She didn’t have much money, but she did have the country cottage.”

“But she was ill for many weeks,” Darcy argued. “Surely poisoning is much faster than that.”

Ian looked at her with pity. “He needed people to think it was an illness,” he countered. “He did it slowly until it killed her. By drawing it out and isolating her, he made people believe she had a tragic illness so they would not investigate her death.” Darcy wanted to argue more but found she didn’t know what to say. Ian took her hand and squeezed it. “Please tell me you are well.”

“I’m fine,” she said immediately, detangling her hands from his. “Besides, there is nothing he would gain from me.”

Ian shot her an incredulous look. “No? Would he not gain your large dowry and the money settled on you by your father? Is that not more than enough motivation?”

She paused. Spencer  _ would _ receive a considerable amount of money upon the unlikelihood of her death, but his generosity with the marriage contract seemed counter-intuitive if he just was going to kill her to get it all back. Unless the settlement could be that generous because he never expected the marriage to last. She shook her head. That was not her Spencer. “I suppose it would be for some men, but not my husband,” she said.

“You’ll come to me if you’re in trouble, won’t you?” Ian asked. His tone was soft and pleading. He seemed to truly believe that she was in danger.

“I am in no danger. Your information is likely someone’s fanciful thoughts.”

“But if you were,” he pressed.

“If I was in danger, I’d ask for help,” she agreed, purposefully not saying she would come to him.

Luckily, he did not seem to notice that she had omitted that part. “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll bid you good afternoon now.” He gave her a sad smile and left the store. She looked around her. The clerk was still helping someone else. She hoped their transaction had kept them from overhearing anything Ian had said. 

As she waited her turn to be helped, she rolled the accusation over in her mind. Was it possible? Could Spencer be that devious? Her mind rebelled against the thought, and she chastised herself for even considering it. Of course, he wasn’t like that. She was only giving it credence because Ian had always been kind and decent to her. He hadn’t started the nasty rumor about his failed suit, and he had been kind to her when the rest of society seemed to want nothing more than to gossip about them. Ian was a good friend but had been misguided by someone. That was all.

Content with her conclusions, she turned her thoughts to happier considerations such as which stationary Penelope would like best, picking out a sealing wax that had little flecks of reflective material in it that she thought the woman would love. It was getting late when she had finally finished, and she felt sweaty and gritty from her day spent traveling. Anna took one look at her and called for a bath.

She had slid into the luxuriously warm water and just enjoyed the way the heat unknotted some of the tension she had been carrying in her shoulders. She was still thinking about what Ian had said. She wondered who could be spreading such a malicious rumor. What did anyone have to gain from slandering Spencer? She continued to consider this as Anna washed her hair. Perhaps it was someone that had figured out his work? But spreading a rumor about him wouldn’t stop him from translating. It didn’t make any sense to her.

In the dark recesses of her mind, there was a flicker of concern that it could have been true; that he could have poisoned poor Miss Donovan. There was so much mystery about her death, that there was nothing she could point to and say, “No.  _ This _ is what happened.” Anna finished with her hair and Darcy washed, taking her time to lather the soap all over her body and then rinsing it all away again. She had just finished when there was a knock at the door separating her room from Spencer’s. Anna went to check it, and Darcy heard as Spencer dismissed her maid and stepped into the room.

She stilled. She was naked, and he had never seen her naked body. She wondered if that were normal for a couple.  _ Should _ they see each other naked? She felt a blush come to her cheeks as she considered that she might not mind if it was  _ him _ seeing her naked.

“Hello wife,” he said. His voice was unusually gravelly, and she turned to see him looking intently at her face. She realized he must be trying not to look down, though the soapy film of the water kept most of her from view.

“Hello husband,” she said softly, pulling a hand from the water and beckoning him closer. “You should kiss me hello,” she said.

He hesitated only a moment before stepping beside the tub and kneeling next to it but not leaning in to kiss her yet. “I can leave if you wish.”

“I asked for a kiss, not a departure,” she said. Then, feeling bold, added, “Besides, you have dismissed my maid and someone will need to help me out and help me dry off.”

“I did dismiss her,” he agreed, still, frustratingly, not kissing her, though he licked his lips.

“I wonder what you were hoping to accomplish with that,” she said lightly.

“To have my wife to myself,” he said. “Though I didn’t think it fully through.”

She furrowed her eyebrows in mock seriousness. “My husband always thinks everything through. Certainly, he considered what he might do with a wet, naked wife.”

“I believe she has requested I start by kissing her,” he said, finally coming to the point she had hoped he would.

Before she could respond, he leaned in and placed his lips softly against hers. She didn’t want soft or timid; she wanted to feel him wanting her. 

She placed her wet hands on either side of his face and pulled him into her, deepening the kiss. Her tongue slipped between his lips, parting his mouth. She could feel the water running off her hands and down his neck, and her fingers moved to trace the rivulets, pulling at the knot of his cravat as she felt the need to feel the delicate skin under there. She moved to get closer to him though the edge of the tub still separated them, sloshing water over the edge and likely over him, though she didn’t care. 

His own hands went from her hair to his neck, granting her the access she couldn’t seem to get herself. Her lips moved to trace the path her fingers had blazed, running down the edge of his jaw to the soft skin usually hidden from view. His aftershave had a light cedar smell that still lingered from the morning, and she inhaled, memorizing the scent of her husband. His hands had gone back to her hair, but now they were running down her shoulders and slipping over her back, fingertips grazing the top of the water. She wanted to be closer to him, but the tub was preventing it. 

She mouthed her way back to his lips and slowly guided him to stand with her, pressing her wet, naked flesh against his clothes, her hands pushing at the lapels of his jacket to push it from his shoulders. A soft, needy sound came from her lips as the hands exploring her body kept the garment from moving. He stopped his own investigation, but continued to kiss her with a heat that she hadn’t realized she had wanted from him as he pushed the offending jacket to the ground; his hands immediately going back to her skin and running up and down her back like he needed to feel all of it in case he was never able to touch her again.

She shivered, realizing she was cold as the room air hit her body, and he first pulled her closer and then broke off their kiss. “Let me fetch you a flannel,” he said, his voice rumbling in a lustful tenor. “You must be freezing.”

She wanted to laugh at the scene. She was standing in the tub still, shivering the slightest bit, and her husband was trying very hard to avert his eyes as he found a flannel for her. His jacket was a crumpled mess on the floor with his cravat, and his shirt and trousers had large water blots on them from her pressing herself against him as though she could fuse with him.

He came back with a towel that he draped over her shoulders. “Do you not want to see me?” she asked, hating how her voice was small and insecure.

“I do,” he said immediately, making her feel much better, “but I did not give you a choice when I came in as to whether or not I saw you...less than attired, so I wanted to...ask before I did.”

His stammering over it was endearing. She did not know how she had gained such a man as her husband. He was so thoughtful and considerate. She wrapped the flannel around her body. “I think I would like you to look,” she said, “but I also need out of this bath before I slip and fall.” Immediately he was at her side, helping her step out of the bath and onto the floor. Cheekily she asked, “Would you help me dry off?”

His eyes studied her, a soft smile playing at his lips. “I would like that very much,” he said, slowly peeling the towel from her and dropping to the floor in front of her. He lifted one foot, drying it thoroughly. This wasn’t quite what she had hoped for. It was kind, but not something that made her blood sing. She needed to take matters into her own hands.

“Spencer,” she said, causing him to look up the expanse of her exposed body. His eyes lingered momentarily on her breasts and she already deemed this plan a success. “I think you should start at the top, otherwise I’ll continue to drip and ruin your hard work.”

He nodded slowly, taking a moment before he stood before her, his eyes dragging up her form causing her to flush from the tips of her ears down to her toes. She knew that he was meticulous and very focused from her time spent watching him do his translation work, but having that focus applied to her was electrifying. It made her feel like he could dissect her, and she would enjoy every minute of it. He took the towel in one hand and slowly gathered her hair in small bunches to pat dry, his eyes fixed on her face. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered.

“You’re too clothed,” she countered. Her statement seemed to surprise him. She almost regretted her words, but then he handed the flannel to her and pulled his shirt off over his head.

“Still too clothed?” he asked.

She knew that she was naked and should demand he was too, but the sight of his bare chest made her desirous of getting her hands on him again. She dropped the towel on the floor and ran her fingers over his shoulders. “Is this alright?” she asked.

“More than.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. His skin on her skin was a delicious feeling. She wanted to press against him until every bit of her was touching him. 

She slotted her mouth against his and he let his hands wander up and down her sides like he was mapping her, but with his fingers. She licked into his mouth and he moaned, his hands tightening their grip on her, turning her around so he could press into her until she fell onto the bed with him on top of her. Her nails scratched down his back as she arched into his kisses that trailed down her neck. His hands slid from under her to her breasts, handling them as though they were delicate antiques. The sensation sent little fissures of pleasure down her nerves and she wanted more, though of  _ what _ she wasn’t sure.

“Is this acceptable?” he asked, looking up at her.

“Yes.” The word was breathy, and as soon as he heard it, he returned to kissing down her neck and to the valley between her breasts, his thumbs running circles over her nipples. He turned his head to the side, licking up to take her into his mouth. She dug her nails into his back, enjoying to exquisite feeling of his tongue and teeth teasing her. 

There was an insistent knocking on the door connecting their rooms, and Darcy almost cried in frustration as Spencer pulled his mouth from her skin and looked first at her and then at the door.

She could hear a muffled, “Sir,” from the other side, and determined that their tryst had come to a close. 

“It’s all right,” she said, running a hand through his hair, tracing the edge of his jaw.

“It’s not,” he said, and she could tell that he was struggling to get himself back under control, which made her feel quite good. “But this is not over,” he said, his eyes still dark with desire. “Tonight,” he promised.

“Tonight,” she agreed. “When we get home.”

“We won’t stay long,” he vowed before finally tearing himself away from her and heading back to his room. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer goes to see Bruce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so excited to see how some of you respond to this chapter. You'll know exactly who you are by the time you're done with it!
> 
> So many thanks to Dresupi for her immeasurable help with editing and HKThauer for always cheerleading me.

Spencer had not expected to have an ordinary day, based upon his night. He had tossed and turned, debating what had given them away or what Dr. Banner thought he had figured out, but nothing could have prepared him for the truth of the matter. He considered telling Darcy about the meeting, possibly even asking her to join, but there was something in the back of his mind that kept him from following through. Eventually, he decided that Bruce’s choice to not put Darcy’s name on the note, nor to request both of them was a sign that Spencer was expected to arrive alone. Even still, he could have told Darcy, but he wanted to wait until after so he could also tell her what had given them away. He was loath to worry her.

In retrospect, this was both the best and worst choice he could have made. 

He arrived at Dr. Banner’s house at five minutes before eleven, never having been one for being fashionably late (his nerves wouldn’t allow it). He was shown into the study where he waited for only a few minutes before Bruce came in. The man said nothing as he sat heavily into the desk chair and pulled his spectacles off to clean them.

“Thank you for coming,” he eventually said, leveling an intense gaze on Spencer. “Before we begin, I must ask, does Darcy know you are here?”

“She does not,” he said, worried that this was the first question. He had heard that Dr. Banner could have an explosive temper, and for the first time, he found himself somewhat afraid of the man.

“Good,” he said standing right back up. “You can’t tell her about what happens today, then. If you agree, follow me. If not, you’re welcome to take your leave.”

Spencer stared at the man for a moment. He hadn’t moved yet, clearly giving Spencer a moment to collect his thoughts. Keeping something from Darcy seemed unfathomable. After the trust she had shown him with her notebook, he couldn’t imagine keeping a secret from her. But Dr. Banner knew something, and if he walked away, he would never know what. It was possible that it was something that could keep Darcy safe. He didn’t enjoy the idea of keeping secrets from her, even if it was for her safety. That had always felt like an excuse to him. More information meant more ability to understand and make good choices. As he struggled, Dr. Banner had begun to leave the room. With only a moment more of hesitation, Spencer followed him.

They went upstairs and into a sitting room where Dr. Banner pulled on a sconce and a secret door slid open, revealing a decent sized room inside. There was a window in the ceiling allowing light and cool air to fill the room. A brief glance let Spencer know that this was Bruce’s workshop. He waved Spencer to a stool at one of the tables. There were papers all over the table as well as some tools and pieces of metal. Banner took the stool next to him.

“I appreciate how much consideration you gave before following me,” he started. “I know that you came because of the break-in and that you wondered if any of my notebooks had been stolen. They weren’t, of course. All of them are in here. But I knew that you must be suspicious, especially after the similar break-in Darcy endured. What I don’t know is exactly how much you know.”

Spencer was suddenly very cognizant of the fact that no one knew where he was. Bruce knew he hadn’t told Darcy and he was in a secret room in a house where the staff kept their mouth shut. He had paid Spencer some compliments, but that could have been to put him at ease before doing something dreadful.

“How about you assume I know nothing?” he said, trying to sound confident. He really wished that Sir Hotchner or Lady Prentiss or Morgan— anyone really— had taught him the littlest bit of spycraft when he had been read in on other materials.

“We all have secrets to keep,” Bruce said, “but now’s not the time to be coy.”

“I don’t know what I could know at which you might be referring,” he tried.

Bruce scoffed. “By accepting my invitation at all, you’ve admitted that you’d come yesterday with ulterior motives. I’d like to know what they were.”

“You’ve already guessed,” he said, trying his best to stay vague. “I saw a connection between the break-in at your home and Darcy’s.”

“So you  _ did _ know about the break-in before you arrived,” Bruce said, instantly making Spencer realize his blunder. “I need to know who talked.”

“I really can’t say.”

“Bullshit!” Bruce pounded on the table making everything bounce with the force of his fist. Spencer reflexively pulled away, shrinking back from the noise and the implied violence.

“You’re scaring him, Brucie,” a new voice cooed behind him.

Spencer spun, then rethought turning his back on Dr. Banner and tried to retreat in such a way as to keep both people in his line of sight, but all he did was back into the table rapidly and cause himself to stumble, knocking his stool off-kilter and making himself and the stool fall to the ground. He looked up at the new voice and found it to be a man now contemplating him.

“This graceful man is who you let my Darcy marry?” He made a  _ tsk _ noise. “I don’t know. I trusted you to pick better for her.”

Spencer stared wide-eyed at the man and then darted his eyes to Dr. Banner who had taken off his glasses and was pinching his nose.

“Tony, we talked about this.”

“But you gave him my money. I thought you had better sense than that.”

It took a moment for Spencer’s mind to catch up. “But… that is… I mean… I thought you were dead.”

“At least you caught on to  _ that _ ,” the man said, offering his hand to Spencer and helping him off the floor. “And that was kind of the point.”

Bruce waved his hand indicating the other man. “You wanted to know more about Darcy’s father, well, here you go.”

Spencer stared, flabbergasted at the man before him. Now that he was looking for it, he did see the resemblance. Realizing that he was expected to say something, he blurted out, “Darcy misses you so much. She’ll be overjoyed to know you’re still alive.”

“About that,” her father said. “She can’t.” His drawn eyebrows and pressed lips showed that this was something that he had reluctantly come to accept.

“At least not  _ yet _ ,” Bruce amended. “We’ve kept this secret for nearly two years. You can’t ruin our hard work simply because you hate lying to your wife.”

Spencer wanted to protest but held his tongue. It would be better to know all the details before saying more. “Why am I here?”

“I was always going to invite you over to meet Tony today. We had decided we needed your help and thought we could trust you. But the fact that you did indeed know about the break in prior to your visit yesterday is a problem. We’ve only been able to keep this secret for so long because everyone here is well compensated and loyal. If someone compromised us, we need to know.”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t know the source. My… boss is the one who told me, but he did not share how he knew.” He paused before holding out his hand to Mr. Lewis. “I’m sorry... I feel awkward that we haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Spencer Reid.”

Mr. Lewis turned an amused smile on him but shook his hand nonetheless. “I’m Tony. Just Tony. None of this ‘Mister’ stuff.”

“He’s a bit touchy about the name,” Bruce said.

“Wouldn’t you be?” Tony retorted. “But that’s a story for another time. What I’m interested in knowing is how a book translator learned about a break in.”

“Oh. Erm, well… it’s just that books aren’t all I translate?” He still wasn’t certain he could trust these men, but he found it very difficult to deny anything to Darcy’s father who seemed to be very much alive.

“Jesus, Bruce. Did you vet this guy at all? You know that isn’t what I wanted for her; that I was doing this so it wasn’t something that would be forced on her.”

“And I told you that the marriage was to avoid a scandal,” Bruce sighed.

Tony looked back at Spencer stormily. “ _ You _ compromised my little girl?” he took several menacing steps towards him.

“Of course not! We haven’t even consummated the marriage!” Spencer sputtered out and immediately regretted.

Tony stopped and looked at Spencer and then asked. “Why not? Is there something wrong with her?”

“I didn’t want to pressure her,” he said and Tony deflated. “We didn’t have a chance to really know one another before we were engaged and then she was attacked, and it took her a while to tell me, but I could tell something had happened.”

Tony’s face grew murderous again. “What do you mean something happened when she was attacked?”

“The man that broke into your house? He… he didn’t get away with much, but he tried to force himself on her.”

“Why didn’t we know that?” Bruce asked, his own voice low and dangerous. 

“She didn’t tell me until we had been married two weeks, but I could tell from how she stiffened a bit when we kissed at the ceremony that likely something had happened. She was worried someone might have tried to force her to marry that vile man.”

Tony and Bruce shared a look that clearly was some sort of conversation that must have resulted in some sort of decision because there was a head nod and then they both relaxed a bit.

“I think you’ve been more than patient,” Bruce said gently. “And you really should resolve that sooner rather than later. If someone with enough power found out, they could use this information to annul your marriage.”

“It might even be better for her if you were to provide some happier memories to override the old ones,” Tony added. “I can’t believe I’m advising my son-in-law on deflowering my daughter.” He sent a wry look Bruce’s way.

“Perhaps we could move onto less embarrassing discussions and discuss why you called me here?” Spencer said, a bit pleadingly.

Bruce turned to him. “I was under the impression that you translated books, but apparently you do more than that?”

Spencer hesitated. He knew that sharing the truth could put him and others in danger, but there seemed to be something much bigger at play than they originally imagined, and this might be his chance to help unravel it. “I do,” he admitted. “I also translate and decode messages.”

“How many languages do you speak?” Tony asked, finally pulling up a stool instead of hovering over them.

“Fluently? Eight. But I only regularly use maybe three of them in my work. Lately, my decryption capabilities have been just as important as not only are the messages in another language, but they are also in code.”

Tony nodded, looking over at the table and rustling through some papers before handing one to him. “Can you read this?”

The paper was in Italian and there were markings all over the margins. A quick glance explained the reason; the message was coded and someone had been trying to crack it. 

“Do you have some fresh paper?” Spencer asked absently, already pulling a pencil from the table and placing the message in front of him so he could identify the most likely type of code. Paper appeared at his elbow and he got to work. 

He carefully analyzed both the capitalization and punctuation for any clues they might provide, in addition to how the phrasing might clue him in. He wasn’t certain how long he worked nor if anyone had tried to speak with him while he had worked. When he came out of his focused haze he turned to find the men studying him intently. “It’s no wonder you couldn’t decode this. I only could because I decoded a message two weeks ago that had the keyword necessary to decode this one.” He slid the paper over to Tony who had at some point moved across the table from him.

Tony looked down at the paper, quickly reading the now uncoded message. “Clearly, we should have called you in sooner.”

“Well, you didn’t know I could do that,” he said waving his hand toward the paper, “so why  _ did _ you want me?”

“I was conscripted, at a very young age, into a covert organization,” Tony said. “I never had a choice, but they paid for me to keep doing what I loved, which was inventing things, so I didn’t mind. I was convinced that marriage was in the best interests of the organization, so I married Darcy’s mother.”

“‘Convinced’ he says,” Bruce muttered.

Tony paid him no mind. “However, I started to notice that some of the things I had invented were being put together with other inventions to make them more destructive, and they were being used against the crown. I started to question who I was really working for.”

“By happenstance, I came across information that let us know that there was a rebel group hiding inside our group that had quietly been undermining our efforts for years,” Bruce added, possibly inadvertently giving away that he had been involved with the group along with Tony. “When Tony realized this, he made a declaration that he would no longer make weapons.”

“They applied… pressure to make me change my mind.” The way he said “pressure” had made it clear to Spencer that there had been torture. “And when I still wouldn’t give in, they plotted to kill me and make it look like an accident in an effort to gain all my notebooks. That’s when I had them hidden away in Bruce’s lab and sent him off to secure Darcy’s future.”

“Staging the accident was simple,” Bruce continued. “But we’ve been having difficulty in determining just who is part of the counter-crown rebellion group. We know they’re planning something big, and the final notebook— the one Darcy has— is at the center of it.”

“What we need from you is simple,” Tony said, staring at him intently, “protect my girl and her notebook at all costs.”

“I already am,” Spencer said earnestly. “She is my wife. I’d never let any harm befall her.”

“Then consummate the marriage so no one can rip her from your protection,” Tony said. “And then report to us everything you notice that might be a clue as to what is being planned and by whom. Of course, the crown is important to me,” Tony said with a wave of his hand that said it actually was a trifling matter to him, “but Darcy is the most important thing in my life. I’m trusting you to keep her safe because I cannot.”

Bruce looked down at his watch. “And you probably should leave now,” he said. “It’s been several hours and we don’t want to raise any suspicions. I’ll call for you again in a week’s time to see what you’ve learned, but you can always get in touch if you need to talk sooner.”

“How is she?” Tony asked quietly. “I haven’t been able to see her at all these many months.”

“She lights up every room she is in,” Spencer said, a smile playing at his lips as he thought about her. “She has our entire staff wrapped around her finger, though no one more than me.”

Tony nodded at this. “Thank you.”

“I hope you will get to see her again soon,” he said, and then Bruce led him back out of the secret room and out of the house.

When he stepped outside, Spencer was suddenly aware of how long he had been gone. Luckily, the trip home was short. He immediately sought out Darcy. He wanted desperately to tell her about what had happened today, but he knew that, at least for this moment, he couldn’t. Not yet. He wasn’t certain he would actually keep his promise to Bruce and Tony not to tell her, but he’d keep it for the time being.

When he knocked on the closed door between their rooms he was surprised to see Anna instead of Darcy. She quietly explained that his wife was having a bath prior to dressing for the night, and he heard himself dismiss her before he had even registered what he was doing. He  _ had _ been tasked with something very specific to keep her safe, after all. 

He walked over to the tub and did his very best to keep his eyes respectfully on hers. He wanted this and thought she did too, but he wouldn’t do anything without her say so. He belatedly realized that he had taken away her choice in the matter, and he wanted to rectify that to the best of his ability.

But then she had acquiesced so prettily and kissed him so hungrily he had lost all sense. The feel of her skin, wet and slippery beneath his fingers brought up the strangest contradiction of wanting to ghost over her delicate skin but also dig his nails, his lips, his teeth into its suppleness. He was aware that he was getting wet, but he didn’t care. Clothes could dry. Being with his wife here and now like this was a momentary pleasure that he hoped to have many more chances to experience but didn’t want to waste in case he didn’t.

Removing his cravat and jacket was instinctual. The breathy noises she made as she commenced her own exploration of his body made him act without thinking. He wanted to do anything and everything he could to please her. He was almost thankful for the break to grab her a flannel that allowed his mind to clear so he could refocus and calm himself before he pushed for more and faster than perhaps they wanted to go. He wanted to take all day memorizing her body and the little sounds she was making that he had never heard before. 

He had copped out by starting at her feet to dry, but when he looked up the still wet expanse of her body, he couldn’t regret the choice and the view it afforded him. He gladly took off his shirt, feeling a bit overdressed given the circumstances. The feel of her skin on his set his entire body aflame. He wanted to touch more of her; all of her. He wanted to consume her and memorize her all at once. He hoped that he could remember every detail later. The smell of anise on her skin, the way her skin was now soft more than slick, how the tendrils of her hair cascaded down her back and clung to her skin, how she had flushed red at her throat and breasts with his touch.

When he had gotten her onto the bed, he hadn’t been certain what he wanted to do first, but her naked breasts called out to him, and he had kissed a tender trail down to them. He carefully noted how she responded to every flick of his tongue and drag of his teeth; how her breath would catch or she’d let out a soft moan. He wanted to know all the sounds she made and what he could do to get her to make the again and again. He wanted to conduct a symphony of sounds and movements from her by plying her body with his mouth and hands. 

He was just starting to understand what he should do and planning what was next when his valet had to go and ruin everything. Of course, he didn’t want to slight his friends by being late (or not showing up at all which he was in definite danger of considering), but his body was singing with a need for his wife, and he was a bit dismayed that he had left her in similar circumstances. It felt incredibly ungentlemanly. 

William took one look at him and had the presence of mind to be a bit ashamed at what he had interrupted, but got down to business quickly setting Spencer to rights and making him fit for company. Darcy had looked radiant in her burgundy gown and he had half a mind to send a note around tomorrow saying they had taken ill and were sorry to have missed the ball, but he forced himself to hand her into the carriage instead. He didn’t, however, stop from sitting next to her and holding her hand in his as they made small talk on the drive over, tracing small circles over the pulse point at her wrist. He was satisfied to see that her colour was still high when he handed her out.

Penelope and Morgan were rather well liked throughout town, so it was no surprise that the house was practically brimming with people. The garden had been lit so the party could extend out into the night air, and there were so many people coming out to escape the heat of the ball room that couples who thought they might have some privacy were greatly disappointed. 

When they arrived, Penelope had pulled him close and whispered in his ear that she had made sure there were some refreshments in the library for The Reids to enjoy and then winked at him before greeting the next guest. Spencer had passed this information along to Darcy who blushed before she declared that they shouldn’t allow it to go to waste. He was of a similar mind, but they had to be social for at least a few minutes first.

“Did you hear the news?” Lady Prentiss asked as she slid up next to them after they had finished chatting with one of Darcy’s friends.

“What news?” Spencer asked, pulling Darcy closer to him as it was getting difficult to hear each other.

“My source has located the notebook.”

Spencer shot a look at Darcy, suddenly worried that either there was someone else that had sold their secret or Emily had the wrong information. He hoped he didn’t look as bewildered as he felt.

“I had not heard,” Spencer said. “Can your source be trusted?”

“They’ve never steered me wrong before,” Emily said.

“Who is it?” Darcy asked, a smile on her lips that made him wonder if she might know more than he was aware of about this situation.

Emily matched Darcy’s smile. “Someone I think you would find to be of unimpeachable standing,” was all she said.

“I am glad to hear it,” Darcy said fully grinning now. Spencer realized that something must have transpired during Darcy’s day that he was not privy to and he had been too focused on his own interests to ask after.

Emily’s stance relaxed. “Morgan told me he had planned ahead for your eventual disappearance. I imagine you’ll be taking advantage of that soon.” Her voice was somehow dry but full of implications.

“Perhaps for a moment,” Spencer admitted. 

“Mostly because I like being alone with him,” Darcy said, and Spencer was certain he flushed, thinking about how very much he had enjoyed their time alone earlier.

“Then I should leave you to it,” Emily said with a knowing smile before melting back into the crowd.

Spencer couldn’t help himself. She looked so enticing, and he needed to make sure she knew. “You have a way of getting under my skin in the best ways,” Spencer whispered, his breath a hot promise against Darcy’s ear.

“I’d like to show you just how much I can with my lips instead of my words,” she whispered back. He had difficulty maintaining his composure at such a comment.

Instead, he offered her his arm, pulling her close to him as they started to weave through the throng of people. It felt like a long walk, her nearness burning into his side, but eventually, they made their way to the library, shutting the door firmly behind them.

“You drive me to distraction,” he said against the hollow of her neck before chasing his words with his lips.

She arched into his touch, her hands on the lapels of his jacket, pulling him into her. “Spencer,” she breathed. He looked up at her. “Kiss me.”

“I thought I was,” he teased, but his lips captured hers. These kisses were not the tentative, sweet ones they had shared on their wedding night, but something hungrier, though not as lavacious as the ones from her bath. He felt like he could never have enough of them to feel satisfied. He wanted to know all the types of kisses he could wrest from his wife’s lips.

One arm wrapped around her waist, holding her tight against him while the other caressed her. “I don’t want you to stop,” she admitted when they finally broke apart, “but I feel we must or we shall no longer be presentable in company.”

He took a moment before responding. “You’re right, of course. But, perhaps we could consider continuing this at home?”

“Do you think I had already forgotten the promises you made me in my bedroom?” she asked. Her tone attempted to be innocent, but Spencer knew better. 

He took a second longer to finish composing himself before helping himself to one more, much more chaste, kiss and leading her over to the table and chairs where there were wine and fruit waiting.

“Your friends truly are the best,” she said, popping a grape into her mouth.

“ _ Our _ friends,” he said, pouring the wine. “I think they like you at least as much as me.”

She smiled and they enjoyed their peace, sipping the wine and small bites of fruit while they both tried to cool their ardour that made him want to whisk her back to their home and tear her clothing off once more. Or, at least he assumed she was having the same difficulties as him because her face was still flushed and she spoke little.

“We’ll be missed if we don’t rejoin the company soon,” Darcy finally said.

“I’m not certain that’s true,” Spencer countered, “seeing as all of London seems to have turned out. But you’re probably correct that we  _ should _ return.”

“I should probably return without you, even if we are married,” Darcy said with a sigh as she stood. “Shall I meet you by the punch bowl?”

Spencer stood and kissed her hand. “I will be right behind you,” he agreed. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A run in with Sitwell and a conversation with Natasha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I missed last week. Grad school is currently kicking my ass all over the place. I seem to have nonstop projects (like literally 2 a week every week). I don't have high hopes for an update next week as not only do i have my continual projects, but I am also getting a root canal, picking up a foster dog (a galgo from Spain!), and working the entire weekend. I'm going to try, but no promises.

Darcy needed fresh air. That’s all. She wasn’t sure what had caused it, but her stomach wasn’t upset exactly, there were just pains almost like a cramping. It had come on slowly, and sitting quietly in the library hadn’t alleviated the pain at all. Instead it had grown. She hoped they wouldn’t need to stay much longer because she was certain that she would soon look as ill as she felt.

She made her way to the punch bowl, deciding to have another drink while she waited for Spencer even though she dearly wanted to get out into the night air. She didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily with her absence. As she stood off to the side, she scanned the crowd for him, willing him to come sooner. She cursed her inattention to her immediate surroundings, however, when Mr. Sitwell invaded her space and she hadn’t been able to move away before it happened.

“Mrs. Reid,” he said with a small inclination of his head.

“Mr. Sitwell,” she replied curtly, hoping her tone would put him off.

“I hope married life is treating you well?”

“Well enough,” she answered, not wanting to give him even the tiniest bit of knowledge about her marriage that, oddly enough, she owed to him. The thought stopped her short for a moment. Without Sitwell being a slimy louse of a man, she might never have met Spencer. Who knows what sort of marriage she might have been forced into without him. It was a chilling thought.

“I thought that might be the case,” he replied, making her turn to actually look at him instead of avoiding him as she continued to scan the room for Spencer.

“Oh?”

“You know, now that you are married, there are more options available to you than when you were unwed.” He said “options” delicately, as though she should know what he meant.

“I’m sorry, what?” She really didn’t want to prolong the conversation, but she also was worried that he might make assumptions based on her responses and she didn’t want that either.

“Forgive me. You were sheltered before now. You have  _ options _ . You do not need to be confined to just the embrace of your husband, especially if you do not find it fulfilling.”

She paused, her mind slowly working over his words. Surely he wasn’t implying what she thought he was. “I beg your pardon,” she said sharply.

“I could be so gentle with you,” he said, taking her hand. “Or not,” he added, “if that’s what you prefer.”

She snatched her hand away from him, feeling the need to wipe it off, but not wanting to sully her dress. She was fuming, but couldn’t think of the words to properly set him down for his disgusting proposal. 

“There you are darling,” Spencer said, sliding next to her and kissing her softly on the cheek. “I was looking for you.” He drew her close to him, and she was certain he was trying to make it clear that Sitwell had overstayed his welcome. Indeed, when she turned back to dismiss him, he had already disappeared back into the crowd. “Are you quite alright?” Spencer asked lowly. “You do not look well and Mr. Sitwell seemed to be imposing on you.”

“Wretched man,” she spit out. “He was propositioning me to have a clandestine affair with him.”

Spencer’s reaction was immediate. His hand tightened on her waist and his eyes narrowed. “That  _ bastard _ ,” he spit out. “I’ll run him through!”

She was touched, truly, by his vehemence, but had no wish for bloodshed. “I would as well if it were in fashion for ladies to do so, but as it is not, it would be scandalous either way, so it’s best we just forget it.”

“Forget that he wanted to take  _ my _ wife and do the things that only I wish to do to her? Unfathomable.” He turned so that the length of his body was firmly pressed to her and he looked at her, his eyes full of passion. “I am going to worship every inch of your body and no one else gets to even daydream of it but me.”

“Is that a promise?” she asked, feeling aroused by this sudden display.

“Let’s go home so I can show you,” he said.

She had nearly forgotten just how ill she felt until she turned to let him lead her back to their hosts and her stomach pains protested the movement and she stiffened, just barely stopping herself from doubling over.

“Darcy?” Spencer asked, his words no longer passionate but now worried. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I’ve got dreadful pains in my abdomen.”

“I’m taking you home,” he declared, starting to pull her into the crowd, but only taking a step before stopping. “Can you walk? Do you need me to carry you?”

“I can walk,” she said. The thought of him carrying her immediately filling her with embarrassment, though in another context she might not have minded. “I just might need to go slowly.”

“Then we shall go slowly,” he said gently. “And I will send one of the carriage boys to fetch the doctor instead of riding back with us.” He thought for a moment before adding, "Do you think the jostling of the carriage will pain you too much? Shall I bother Morgan for a room for the night?”

“If I’m going to be ill, I’m going to be ill from the comfort of my own bed,” she declared.

Spencer gently squeezed her arm and continued to guide her, ever so slowly, across the ballroom. They were only waylaid once by a friend wishing to chat with them before they were able to call for the carriage. As they waited for it to be brought around, Spencer dispatched one of their men to fetch the doctor.

“I don’t know that I need a doctor,” she demurred. 

“And I won’t be able to sleep unless you see one.” His eyes were tight with tension, and for the second time that day she thought about Miss Donovan. He had already lost a fiance to a mysterious illness. Of course he would do all in his power to see to her health. Surely this must be a sign that he had no hand in Miss Donovan’s death and had no designs on killing her. Right? Her head was a little fuzzy with the pain now. The carriage ride did aggravate her suffering, but she was glad to be heading home. Maybe after some sleep she would be able to think more clearly.

She wasn’t sure how it happened, but she awoke in her bed. She was no longer in her ball gown, and Spencer was asleep, sitting up beside her, holding her hand. She turned to look at the window and found a very tired looking Anna sitting in a chair next to the bed.

“He refused to leave your side for anything,” Anna whispered. “How are you feeling?”

Darcy took a moment to take stock of her body. There was still a low ache in her stomach, but not like the pains from the carriage. “Better, but not my best,” she said.

Anna nodded. “The doctor couldn’t figure out just what was wrong, but he said it might take some time. He gave you an injection to help with the pain, but he said you might not remember it.”

"Honestly I don't even remember getting out of the carriage," she admitted. "What time is it?"

"It's early still," Anna said, stifling a yawn.

"Have you been up all night?" Darcy asked.

Anna didn't quite answer, instead giving a small shrug.

"I insist you go to bed now. I'm doing well enough. There's no point in you being dead on your feet."

"Let me arrange for something to be brought up to you," Anna said. "Do you think you can handle something simple, like broth?"

Darcy wasn't certain, but she was also aware how long it had been since she had last eaten. "Yes, that will do. But only make the arrangements and then be on your way to bed. You do not need to bring it up personally."

Anna nodded, but Darcy wasn't sure she would actually follow the directions. She hoped so. Her poor maid looked dead on her feet.

Once Anna was gone, she looked over at Spencer. He was still in his shirt and trousers, and he was on top of the duvet, back against the headboard, his head tilted at what must have been an uncomfortable angle.  While she hated to wake him, as she assumed he had passed a night similar to Anna, he would probably thank her if he could sleep in a more comfortable position. Mind made up, she started to call his name, softly at first, in an effort to rouse him. When he didn't awaken right away, she tried to pull her hand from his to help shake him. First his hand tightened on hers and then let if go as he came awake.

"Darcy?" he asked, his voice still shrouded in sleep. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she assured him as he became fully alert. "I was worried about how cramped  you must be sleeping like you were." She watched as he winced a bit while stretching his shoulders.

"I don't care about my cramped muscles," he said, turning fully to her. "How are you? Can I get you anything? Should I fetch the doctor back right now?"

"I'm feeling much better, though not all the way," she said. "Anna has sent for broth, and then I sent her to bed."

He softly caressed her cheek with his thumb. "I was so worried about you. I think I scandalized the doctor by refusing to leave during his examination. He couldn't figure out what is wrong with you, but by the time we got you to the house, you had passed out from the pain, so he couldn't ask you any questions. He'll call again later today." She looked at her, concern crinkling the corners of his eyes. "I will cancel all my appointments today and tomorrow and every day until you are better."

It was sweet, his need to be near her. "Obviously I am much better now than I was. I won't ask that you delay your meetings and business." She could see him preparing to fight her, so she added. "I wouldn't mind if you stayed until the doctor has seen me again, but I'm certain he'll assure you that I am well enough."

"I'm sure you are," he said, his hand finally dropping from her face, "can you forgive me for being worried?"

"It is no sin to care," she said immediately, "I just hate to overtax you when I will be well. I feel that I should put my foot down now, otherwise you will be driven to distraction should I feel any illness while with child; something I've been told is common enough."

His eyes went soft in a way she hadn't seen before, and she realized that he was considering what it would be like to have a child with her. "You are correct," he finally said, "I should not hover so much. I promise to leave and attend my business once the doctor has seen you again. Unless, of course, he determines you are actually very poorly."

She inclined her head. "That is fair," she conceded. "But for now, please get some rest. I'm feeling tired just looking at you!"

He huffed a small laugh before kissing her forehead and doing as she bade, slipping down under the covers and getting comfortable. "I'd still like to hold your hand. I like knowing you are here," he said quietly.

Darcy instantly held out her hand, finding his and linking their fingers together. "You may for now, but I might need them back when it is time to eat my broth."

She was certain he made some noise of agreement, but he was already drifting off.

Eventually the broth came, and she found she didn't need to take her hand back as the maid had also brought up a tray that fit over her lap. When her broth was done and her stomach seemed to handle it, she let herself fall asleep again, this time only waking when the doctor had returned. While he was still stumped as to what caused her pain, he seemed pleased that she was doing better and found no additional areas of concern. He suggested that she take it easy for the next few days, letting her body dictate what she was ready to do. As soon as he was gone, she shooed Spencer away as well, demanding he keep his promise to get back to work once she had been cleared by the doctor.

She kept to her bed most of the day, more to appease Spencer and Anna than anything else, but she did pen another letter to Jane, filling her in on all the news since her last letter of just two days ago. She dearly missed having her friend close, but she had always known there was a chance that marriage would separate them like it had. 

She shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was when Natasha was shown into her room that afternoon.

“Nat!” she said happily. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

“I heard you were ill,” she said, concern wrinkling her brow. “How are you now?”

“Mostly better, but the doctor advised I rest a few days. I’m afraid I’ll go crazy with boredom.”

“I’m surprised your husband isn’t here keeping you busy,” Natasha said with a look that was a little too innocent to be sincere.

“If that had been the case you would have been turned away,” Darcy replied primly. “If he had his way, he would have been, but I told him to go about his business. The doctor said that I wasn’t in danger, so there was no need to hover.”

Natasha looked at her for a moment. “Do you think it was Sitwell?”

“Pardon?”

“Sitwell,” Natasha pressed. “Did he touch you at all or maybe have a chance to slip something in your punch? I know he was the last person you really interacted with before leaving.”

“Oh, we also spoke to Lady Prentiss on our way out,” Darcy said.

“I know, but she is not under suspicion.”

“Is that because she is the source you told about the notebook?” Darcy asked, carefully watching her friend.

Natasha barely blushed, but after knowing her for years, it was clear to Darcy that she was, indeed, blushing. “Yes,” was all Natasha said. “But could it have been Sitwell that made you sick?”

Darcy shook her head. “No. I was feeling ill before I spoke with him.”

Natasha pursed her lips. “I think someone wants something bad to happen to you.”

“But why?” Darcy asked. “What did I do?”

“Marry Spencer,” Natasha said easily. “He removes you from the sphere of influence others wished you to be a part of. There are people that don’t know that you have the notebook, but assume that you will be a useful pawn in either finding or being leverage for the notebook.”

"But how does harming me help anyone else?"

"That's a good question," Natasha said, leaning forward in her chair a bit. "There are several ways that it could be of benefit, but I think the most likely way is that they are hoping to sneak someone into your space or around you. If you are sick or hurt, you're easier to manipulate. Whoever they are deciding to position in your space is probably already someone you trust."

"I certainly don't trust Sitwell."

Natasha waved this away. "He's the distraction. Of course you would think it was him, which leaves you wide open for the other person to sneak in under the guise of supporting or helping you in some way. You should be on your guard at all times."

Darcy had a sudden sinking feeling in her stomach. "I think I already have been approached," she whispered. Natasha raised an eyebrow, so she continued. "It was yesterday morning. I was shopping when I ran into Mr. Boothby. He warned me to be wary of Spencer and tried to get me to promise to come to him if I thought I was in danger."

"Did he say what kind of danger?"

Darcy nodded. "He said that some people believe Spencer poisoned Miss Donovan so he could get her house for his mother, and that he might do the same to me for my money."

Natasha swore in Russian. "Darcy, do you really think I would have let you marry a man that had killed his last fiance?"

"I was found alone with him," she said with a small shrug.

Natasha snorted. "I could have easily made him disappear, kitten. I would not let you marry a monster. Even if your mother wished it." She paused before adding, "Especially if your mother wished it."

"You don't trust her?" Darcy asked.

"I've seen and heard some questionable things," Natasha said, but Darcy knew that meant that her mother was more wrapped up in nefarious plots than she would have suspected. Natasha didn't repeat things she had heard unless she knew they were true. Darcy sat for a moment thinking about what that must mean about her mother and what her mother had done.

"Who should I trust?" Darcy asked.

"Who do you already trust?" Natasha countered.

"Spencer, you, Dr. Banner," she said easily before pausing. Did she trust her new friends? The ones Spencer had introduced her to? "I would like to be able to trust Penelope and Mr. Morgan. Oh! Sir Coulson! I nearly forgot him. Lady Prentiss as well, especially since I know  _ you _ must trust her unless I am very much mistaken about how  _ close _ you two are.”

“Now who is playing at spy?” Natasha asked.

“You didn’t answer, so I must be right,” Darcy said, proud of herself. She sat up a bit straighter and frowned at the pain in her stomach. It had lessened, but still hadn’t gone away. “What should I do, Nat?” she asked, trying to ignore the pain. “How do I move forward knowing people want to use me?”

“Go about your life as you would, but stay vigilant. Don’t let the plots of others change your life, but be aware of possible dangers. Keep your knives near you.”

Darcy nodded at this. “Hey Nat?” she asked.

“Yes?”

“Sitwell propositioned me. That’s why he was talking to me.”

Natasha’s smile was sinister. “Please tell me this is you giving me permission to deal with it.”

Darcy smiled in return. “I am.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer gets to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys...this class is killing me. Collectively my group has spent 70 hours over the past 10 days on this project and it's only part 1 of the dang thing. >passes out<

Spencer was practically lost with worry in the carriage on the way home as Darcy’s discomfort became pain and then  _ unbearable _ pain. When she had fainted, just as they pulled up to the house, he had to press down all his fear as he carefully lifted her and carried her out of the carriage, up the stairs, and into her room. Though the doctor was only a handful of minutes behind them, the time seemed to stretch on. He knew that around him the house was a whirl of motion, but all he could focus on was his wife, her brow creased with pain, but unresponsive. He took her hand in his, sliding his fingers over her pulse point so he would know she was still alive. 

He held vigil through the doctor’s examination and long through the night. He hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep until she had awoken him. Seeing her awake helped assuage some of his fears, but he could see the small crinkles around her eyes and mouth that let him know she still wasn’t better. When she had asked him to go about his business if the doctor agreed she was on the mend, he hadn’t wanted to agree, but then he realized that going out might be for the best.

Once the doctor deemed her on the mend, he made sure that the staff was keeping a close eye on her and took off for Lady Prentiss’s house. He needed to figure out who had done this. He was under no illusion that this was just a coincidence. Someone had set out to harm his wife, and he wasn’t going to sit by and simply let it happen.

“Spencer!” Lady Prentiss said, gliding into the sitting room he had been shown to. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I need your help.”

“Of course,” she said, sitting down and ringing for tea. “How can I be of service?”

“I don’t think it’s an accident that Darcy became mysteriously ill last night,” he said, getting straight to the point. “And I know why she would be targeted, but I don’t know who. Or, I do, but not the actual who.”

Emily frowned a bit. “I’m not sure that makes sense.”

“I’m fairly certain it’s whoever is searching for the notebook,” he said, throwing caution to the wind. He knew that Prentiss was a spy, and he would simply have to trust she wasn’t a double agent of some sort. If she was, he was doomed anyway. “Don’t ask how, but I came across another message through means that were not Sir Hotchner. When I decoded it, it made reference to ‘the girl who is the key.’ I believe that girl is Darcy.”

Emily sat for a moment, considering him. “You ask a lot of me to not inquire where the note came from, but instead I’ll ask why you think it is Darcy. There are lots of ladies in town.”

He took a deep breath, stalling as a maid delivered the tea items. He waited until she had left and the tea poured before he decided once and for all to trust in his friend. “I  _ know _ it is Darcy because she has the notebook.”

Emily went very still at this pronouncement. She had been lifting her teacup to her lips, but it hung there, suspended in the air for several long moments before she placed it back on the saucer without taking a sip. He stayed quiet, willing to wait her out, though as the seconds ticked by, he became increasingly worried that he had made an error in divulging to her. He carefully tried to scan the room for exits and weapons without being obvious about it. “You’ve seen it, then?” she finally asked.

He was still very tense; terrified he had misplaced his trust. “I have,” he said slowly. He knew that Prentiss was actually a very good fighter. She had trained in both fencing and with pistols. He had no doubt that it would be a very uneven fight, but he would go down trying. He’d probably start by kicking the tea table and hopefully scalding her with the water.

“I should have known,” Emily said, almost complaining. “Of course that’s how she knew the notebook had been located and was safe.” She gave a small chuckle. “Only you, my dear friend, could end up in the middle of all this.” Spencer watched her warily, unsure of how to take her statements. Emily seemed to sense his confusion and unease, though and said, “Natasha Romanov is the one who told me the notebook had been found and was safe. I believe she is close friends with your wife.”

Spencer relaxed. “I  _ had _ wondered how you had heard it was located. She must have told Miss Romanov sometime yesterday.”

“So the notebook is safe but your wife is not. Tell me, what do you know about its contents? How do you know that they are after her and not someone else?”

“It belonged to her father,” Spencer explained. “They want it for the many plans for weapons within its pages. I am just guessing, of course, “ he went on, though it wasn’t a guess at all now that he had actually spoken to her father, “but I believe he was killed when he refused to continue handing over his inventions. I believe he became aware that he wasn’t working on the side of good.”

Prentiss nodded. “So they know that Darcy is the most likely to know something about the notebook, thus why she is the key.” Prentiss frowned. “Could they actually mean her mother?”

Spencer shook his head. “I am ashamed to say I think her mother is also on the wrong side. Before he died, her father tasked Darcy with keeping the notebook safe and hidden and not telling her mother.”

“That would explain the number of suitors that Natasha kept away from Darcy. Her mother would have likely married her off to someone who would manipulate her into handing it over.”

“I do believe that is why she continually kept trying to break off our engagement.”

Emily snorted. “No one was breaking off that engagement. The two of you were so clearly in love that I have no doubt you would have eloped if necessary.”

“Oh, I’m not sure—” he started to say, but Emily cut him off.

“I am,” she said emphatically. “Everyone that looked at you two saw it for a love match.” She must have sensed that he was about to protest because she barreled on, “No matter  _ how _ you met each other. You two fell head over heels from the start.” She smiled softly at him. “And I’m so very happy for you,” she said, her voice warm. “I was so worried for you after Miss Donovan.”

Spencer found that the mention of her name didn’t hurt as much this time. “I am happy,” he said simply. “ _ Darcy _ makes me happy. So please, I beg of you, help me keep her safe.”

Prentiss nodded. “I think you and I need to go see someone,” she said, standing. “If we are going to protect her, we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

“I don’t want anyone else to know about the notebook that doesn’t need to. I wouldn’t have told you if I thought I could have found a way around it. I promised her that she didn’t have to tell anyone she didn’t want to.”

Lady Prentiss waved this concern away. “I will take care of that. I assume you brought your carriage?” He nodded. “Then we best leave now.”

The carriage ride was short, and soon they were being shown into Sir Rossi’s library where they found he was not alone. Sitting with him was Sir Coulson. The gentlemen stood to greet them. Rossi was kind and warm, asking them to join them while clearly wondering about the reason for their visit. Spencer looked at Sir Coulson, wondering what they would do. Just bide time until he left?

“We are not here for a social call, gentlemen,” Emily said, getting to the point. “Darcy is in danger and we need help protecting her.”

Apparently, they would trust him as well.

Both men sat up straighter in their chairs. “Before you ask how just trust me.” she looked at both men carefully. Each one nodded their agreement and Spencer wondered about the years it must have taken to build up trust that would let them simply agree with her without question. She turned to Spencer. “Tell them what happened last night.”

Spencer nodded before turning to his audience. Both men had their eyes fixed on him, clearly ready to pay every attention to his words. “Last night we left Morgan and Garcia’s engagement ball early because Darcy was unwell. As we drew closer to home, the more pain she was in until she fainted from it. The doctor administered an injection to help relieve the pain, but even this morning she is still feeling ill. The doctor was unable to determine a cause. I know that she is being targeted, and I believe this illness is no coincidence.”

“What kind of pain?” Sir Coulson asked. Spencer was relieved that he was not questioning the story. It seemed they had both accepted his word as fact. This was going easier than he anticipated.

“It started as a dull pain in her abdomen, but it grew with time and jostling. It is back to just a dull pain, though I am worried that if she is too active it will return in full force. She is at home resting.” He smiled for a moment. “She refused to let me hover, so I decided to seek other forms of aid.”

Both men smiled at that. “I’d like to speak to one of my people about her symptoms. In vague terms, of course. See if we can sort out what has caused this pain. However, I do believe that they will want to examine her themselves. I will, of course, leave that to your discretion, but I do vouch for them.”

Spencer nodded. “Send me a note with the particulars if that is what needs to happen. I will leave the choice to Darcy.”

“Did she come in contact with anyone at the ball that might have brought about this episode? Someone we might be able to trace the onset to?” Sir Rossi asked.

“What about Mr. Sitwell?” Emily asked. “I saw him speaking with her at the punch bowl.”

Spencer scowled. “I wish it were that simple as I’d like to run the man through,” he growled. “Her pain started before that, but he is no gentleman.”

Coulson sighed. “I am afraid he is not. May I ask what he did to engage your wrath?”

“He was trying to get Darcy to agree to a covert affair with him,” Spencer said, the words like ash in his mouth.

Before either man could get a word out, Prentiss said, “Consider him handled.”

Rossi looked at Spencer. “I have a... we’ll call it a network, of informants on the street. I will have them listen for any information pertaining to you or your wife. I’ll also have them keep an eye on both of you when you are out. Whoever did this did so without either of you noticing. It could have been the most innocuous thing: brushing by you on the street, handing you a package. You should be aware of all your letters. It’s best you hold onto all of them until this is solved in case the cause is embedded in the paper. We will be able to examine each one.”

Spencer nodded. “Should we continue to go out?” he asked. “Won’t that open her up to danger?”

“It will,” Rossi agreed. “But it will also make it harder to pin down who is responsible. If you act as though you don’t suspect there was foul play, they are more likely to use less covert means so we have the opportunity to catch them.

“I don’t like putting Darcy at risk in such a manner,” Spencer said.

“I know,” Coulson said. “But I think, if you speak with her, she will want to go about her life. She isn’t good at being caged up.”

Spencer inclined his head in acknowledgment. That was true. “If you think it will keep her safe,” he agreed.

“I think she’s going to get cabin fever if you don’t let her out of the house. At least with a plan in place, we can hopefully determine who to blame.”

They spoke for several minutes longer about the logistics of Rossi’s network and Coulson’s mysterious doctor. It was agreed that they would all meet again in two days time at Lady Prentiss’s house, Darcy included as long as she was well enough to travel. Spencer took Emily home and then continued on to his final destination for the day. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing Bruce and Tony again so soon, but he was certain that if he didn’t come to them there would be hell to pay.

He was shown into the study once more. It was a long several minutes before a somewhat unkempt Dr. Banner joined him. “Spencer,” he said cautiously. “I did not expect to see you again so soon.”

“I wish I did not have cause to be here again so soon,” he said gravely. 

Bruce looked at him and then nodded, leading the way back up the stairs to the hidden room. It was a tense, quiet walk. Once they were in the room, Spencer saw Tony bent over a small set of gears, carefully resetting them with a coiled spring. 

“That was fast,” Tony said, not looking up. “What did Spencer want?”

“Why don’t we ask him?” Bruce said. 

Tony looked up sharply. “What’s wrong with my little girl?”

“I can’t prove it, but I think someone did something to make her ill. I don’t know who. I don’t know how,” he said, getting straight to the point. “She started getting pains in her abdomen at a ball last night. The pain became so intense on the ride home that she fell unconscious. The doctor gave her some pain reliever, but even after speaking with her and examining her this morning has no idea what caused the pain. She is feeling better, but some pain persists.”

He sat and watched the two men absorb this news. He could feel the tension in the room ratchet up with each passing second.

“When she asked me not to stay with her, I set out to find help to keep her safe. I have a group of people I trust helping us figure out who is to blame and watching out for her safety,” he finally said in an effort to cut the simmering anger.

“Maybe it’s time for me to no longer be dead,” Tony said with an icy calm.

“That would be less safe for Darcy,” Bruce argued. “We’ve been over this!”

“Well, she’s damn well not safe right now!” Tony said, smacking the table. “What good is it for me to be here, stuck in the shadows, investigating only things that are on paper while someone is out there hurting my girl? How am I protecting her in death?”

“She’s in danger if we don’t unravel this web,” Bruce said, his own voice full of anger. “If we don’t figure out who is to blame, this will never end and she’ll be in danger for the rest of her life!”

Spencer watched the men argue, unsure what, if anything, he should say.

“You heard him,” Tony said, gesturing wildly at Spencer, “he doesn’t know who or how! They’re doing this because of me! Maybe if I was there, they would come after me and just leave her alone.”

“And you’d break her heart all over again when they really did kill you,” Spencer said. Both men turned to stare at him. “We need to work together,” he said resolutely. “I need everything you have on this network. I’ll add it to what I can find out from my other friends in this business. If we all stop acting alone, we might just be able to wrap this up. Darcy can be safe, you can live, and I can go back to translating novels and histories instead of being part of an espionage organization.” 

“How do I know I can trust your people?” Tony asked.

“You can’t know.” Spencer looked him in the eye. “All you know is that I trust them. But right now, I don’t care who you do or don’t trust. If I have to tear this entire house apart to find your notes on the counter-crown ring, I will do so because that’s the only idea I have right now to keep my wife safe.”

“You think you could take us if we tried to stop you?” Bruce asked, more bemused than serious.

“No. But I’d rather die trying than give up on keeping her safe.”

Tony and Bruce shared a long look. “One condition,” Tony finally said. “You bring back all your notes on the network so we can also work with the full data set. I won’t sit by while others keep my daughter safe.”

“Deal,” Spencer agreed immediately.

Bruce wandered over to a corner shelf and pulled off a notebook, opening it in up and spreading the first pages in front of Spencer. “Here’s what we know so far…,” he started.

He had been gone most of the day by the time he finally wrapped up with Tony and Bruce and made his way home. He felt better like his day had been full of purpose even if it hadn’t been full of Darcy. As soon as he was in the door he made his way to the kitchen to ask the cook to prepare a meal appropriate for Darcy’s delicate stomach to be sent up to their rooms this evening.  Mrs. Richards had just laughed and said they had already planned to do just that for the next several days and shooed him back upstairs to see his wife.

“Spencer!” Darcy said happily when Anna let him into the room. “I hadn’t expected you to take my dictate so seriously,” she teased.

“How are you supposed to realize you missed me if I wasn’t away?” he teased back, delighted she was in good spirits.

“Join me,” she said, patting the bed next to her. He tried not to let the fact that she didn’t feel well enough to be out of it dampen his spirits. 

Anna slipped out of the room while he joined Darcy on the bed, kissing her cheek as settled in next to her. “How was your day?” he asked.

“Mostly boring,” she said with a small sigh. “Anna wouldn’t let me leave my bed, though Natasha did come for a visit. I wrote Jane a letter and did some reading and embroidery. It was all very sick in bed.”

“Which is what you were. How  _ are _ you feeling?” he asked, carefully watching her.

Darcy frowned slightly. “The background ache has started to dissipate, but it is still present. I did walk around the room a tiny bit without more pain, so that is an improvement. But tell me about your day. Tell me about the world outside the house. Has it changed since my confinement to bed?” she asked, her eyes wide in mock dramatics.

“You say that as though your bed is a bad place to be.”

“It’s boring,” she pouted.

“I guess I better convince you that it doesn’t have to be,” he said, moving in slowly to begin kissing down her neck. “Do stop me if this is too much,” he said between soft, methodical kisses.

“Oh,” she said, her voice already starting to hitch. “I don’t find this boring at all.” Her fingers carded into his hair, urging him to be a bit more forceful. He turned his kisses from chaste to something more hungry, licking and nipping at her sensitive skin, moving from her neck down to her collarbone and onto her breasts. She was still in the soft, unstructured nightgown that gave him easy access to her generous bosom, his mouth exploring their firm softness and her nipples until she was making small needy noises in the back of her throat.

When the knock came at the door, he wasn’t surprised. It was as though the universe was conspiring against him enjoying the pleasures of his marital bed with his wife. He helped Darcy cover herself again before bidding the maid enter with their dinner. He dismissed the woman with a firm command that they were not to be disturbed for the rest of the night unless they rang for help. 

He escorted Darcy over to the table, a new determination taking hold. He would seduce his wife over dinner. He couldn’t wait.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some "action" and then some answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so close to done with this term, and this story is starting to wrap up too. I should be able to post regularly again now that I am tying up the last bits of coursework before the next term.

Darcy was losing her mind. It seemed like the world was trying to keep her from enjoying the embrace of her husband. She was finally ready to be with Spencer, but every attempt had been interrupted. In the bath they had been interrupted. Her illness had interrupted them heading back home. And now dinner was interrupting again. She wasn’t as mad about the last one because she did find she had gained back some appetite and was hungry, but she was also hungry for other things and would have gladly delayed dinner to explore those cravings more. But it was not to be.

She kept herself from sighing. She was feeling much better, but there was still a heavy weight that sat uneasy in her stomach, and what could have caused this mysterious illness was weighing heavily on her mind. She had spent much of her free time trying to identify what she had come in contact with that could have caused her symptoms, but she kept coming up short. It was infuriating. She had written her thoughts and her own ultimately unsuccessful trains of thoughts to Jane, hopeful that her brilliant friend might be able to think of something she had not. She knew it would take time for her letter to get to Jane, and then even more time for a response to return, but she had no other ideas.

Spencer was looking at her with heat in his gaze, and she felt herself start to flush under his observation. "Something on your mind, husband?" she asked.

"I was considering how soft your skin looks," he said, his eyes sweeping over her, lingering, though she couldn't be certain which parts of her were specifically catching his eye. "I'd like to be able to experience how soft it is." His voice was low and course in a way that felt pleasant against her ears. 

"I am certain to enjoy your explorations," she replied before savoring a spoonful of her soup. She had looked down to her glass of wine for a moment, and was surprised to see Spencer intently looking at her lips. "Is there something you require?" she asked.

"Just you."

Darcy flushed. "I do believe that you have me, as I am your wife."

"But you aren't yet, are you?" he countered. "Not in all the ways that are expected." He paused, and she held her breath, wondering what he was going to say next. "Not in all the ways I want you to be."

"Not in all the ways I wish to be," she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Spencer licked his bottom lip, and her eyes traced the movement. "I   would like to remedy that; make our desires our truth."

"I have many desires," she said, pleased with her boldness.

"As do I."

They sat, staring intently at each other for a long moment, and then Spencer was moving out of his chair, slowly, deliberately, coming to her side. She had wanted to stand, to meet him, but she felt rooted to the spot by his insistent gaze. He bent to her, softly nuzzling at the base of her throat before turning his lips to hers and kissing her with a need that bled through his fingers as they caressed her jaw and started to tangle in her hair. Her own hands had curled around the lapels of his jacket attempting to pull him closer to her, but it wasn't enough. She wanted to feel his skin against hers. He seemed to sense her wants because he ended the kiss, pulling just a fraction away from her.

"Wife, let me take you to bed," he said. His voice was low and thick, and she wanted nothing more than to bow to his request. She thought that he could ask her to do anything with that voice and she would do it just for the hope at what it promised if she obeyed.

She stood, her legs a bit shaky, his kisses having started to make her feel boneless. She let him lead her back over to the bed, unsure just how to proceed, but wanting nothing more than to get to it. He wordlessly encouraged her to lie down, following her once again with his lips. She let a soft sigh escape her as his mouth left her feeling warm and wanting.

Her hands pushed at his jacket, and he flung it aside, never stopping the determined path of his mouth as it trailed down her neck to her bosom. She pulled at the hem of his shirt, needing it gone too, and he broke off momentarily to remove it. “Greedy,” he panted in her ear before nipping at the lobe.

“And you aren’t?” she asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Oh, I am,” he agreed, pulling at the lacing on the front of her nightgown until her breasts were exposed to him and he bowed his head to them once more. “Do you mind?” he asked, his question hot against her sensitive flesh.

“I mind that you keep stopping.”

He laughed a little before carefully kneading one breast and causing her to involuntarily sigh happily. 

“Don’t stop,” she said as he started to lick at her breast, sucking soft, small kisses all over. 

“I don’t plan on stopping,” he practically growled. “We’ve been stopped enough, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” she agreed, her voice becoming breathy. Her hands ran over his exposed chest, and she could feel him shiver under her touch. She tried to focus on memorizing the planes of his body, but his attentions to hers made focusing difficult. She wanted to know every scar and mark on him, to know how every inch of his skin felt beneath her fingers. He wasn’t a large man, but he did have some muscle definition that rippled as he tensed at various times. She scratched her nails down his back and enjoyed the low moan that escaped his lips, rumbling against her own flesh.

“Spencer, I need…,” she started to say.

“What? Tell me what you need.”

“I don’t know. You, I think.” her curled into his back as she felt his rigid length against her hip. She tentatively moved a hand to the front of his breeches, running her hand over them to feel him hot beneath her.

He moaned and arched a little into her touch, muttering something she couldn’t make out. “Should I stop?” she asked innocently.

“Please don’t.” His voice was strained, and for a moment she thought that she was hurting him, but as he grew harder under her touch she realized he was trying to not end their time together too quickly. “Darcy,” he moaned. His pleading use of her name caused a deep need low in her belly.  “I want to see all of you, darling,” he said, regaining some control. She sat up and pulled her nightgown over her head, some of her hair coming loose from her braid. He took a second, drinking her in, but she didn’t want to be the only one exposed.

“Your turn,” she said, feeling herself flush at his continued gaze. He made short work of his trousers, and she found herself now applying an assessing gaze. He gently laid beside her once more, and both their hands explored, no longer impeded by fabric. She felt herself becoming wet at the apex of her thighs and found herself craving his hands traveling lower. She sighed in sweet relief when he softly cupped her, only to moan wantonly when one long, slim digit curled inside her. 

“More,” she found herself pleading.

“Are you sure?” he asked as another finger slid inside her.

“Very,” she said, nipping at his neck and earlobe and any bit of him she could get her mouth on. Her hands held him, testing his weight before slowly sliding up and down. He shuddered a bit and she picked up speed.

“Are you ready for me?” he asked, his voice gravelly.

“Make me your wife,” she begged, wanting more than his fingers could provide. 

He carefully pulled himself away from her, but she scarcely had time to contemplate his absence before he was lining himself up at her slick entrance and whispering in her ear as he slowly, carefully, slid in. 

She loved the feeling of him inside her, knowing that this was what her body had been calling out for when she didn’t know what she needed, just that she needed more. “Are you okay?” he asked, kissing a line from behind her ear down her neck.

“I am,” she said, her nerve endings aflame. That was nothing, though, compared to when he started moving, sliding in and out of her, at first a slow, dragging motion, but picking up speed as she made small, needy noises, his own moans harmonizing with hers. Soon she felt her pleasure cresting, and Spencer was following her over the edge.

It was several moments before they both came back to themselves.

“Wife?” Spencer asked.

“I truly am now, aren’t I?” Darcy mused. Suddenly they were both overtaken by a fit of the giggles and laughed themselves silly.

When they calmed again, Spencer said, “Was that acceptable?”

Darcy smiled at him. “Husband, I think that’s my new favorite way to spend time with you.”

Spencer barked out a small laugh and then they fell into companionable silence. Darcy was very pleased with how the night had turned out.

*** 

Three days later, Darcy was in the throws of another illness, the same as before. Her stomach was pained and her thoughts were fuzzy. She and Spencer had discussed what they would do if it happened again, so she was not surprised when he told her that Coulson’s doctor was on his way. She wished that she could focus more on what was being said, but it was taking most of her concentration to simply not move at all, for movement seemed to send another shooting spike of pain. Anna was next to her with a bowl of cool water, pressing a flannel to her brow and the back of her neck to help soothe her while Spencer paced impatiently waiting for the doctor. Finally there was a knock at the door, and he opened it to reveal a man and woman.

“I’m Dr. Fitzsimmons,” the woman said, "and this is my husband. He’s the chemist who will be testing your wife’s blood."

“Jemma?” Darcy called, somewhat blearily from the bed.

“Darcy!” her friend said, rushing to her bedside. “I didn’t know I was to see you!”

“I didn’t know you and Leo had returned from your studies abroad,” she said weakly.

“I didn’t know you had gotten married,” Jemma countered. “We just returned this week,” she added. “I suppose it is good I didn’t call on you at your mother’s yesterday like I had considered.”

“We can catch up after Jem examines you, yeah?” Leo said, his accent making Darcy smile. He turned to Spencer, “I’ll join you in the hall,” he said, starting to guide him out.

“Oh, I’m not leaving,” Spencer said. “I haven’t yet. I refuse to be idle while my wife is being harmed by some unknown person in some unknown way.”

Jemma shot a look at Darcy that made her smile. “Whatever you decide, Jem,” she said quietly, the effort of talking causing her to lose her focus on keeping still, and tiring her out as the pain washed over her.

“If it’s acceptable to you,” Jemma hedged.

“Leo can stay as well,” Darcy said. “I want to know what is causing this so I can never feel this miserable again.”

Jemma gave a short nod before beginning her examination. She was quick, efficient, and gentle, just like Darcy knew she would be. Everyone stayed quiet as she worked.

“I want to draw some blood,” Jemma said. “Then Leo can run some tests on it. I promise you’ll barely feel a thing.”

Darcy nodded her acceptance, but turned away, unable to watch as Jemma performed the procedure. Once the vials were safely tucked into her bag, so cleared her throat. “I only know what had been relayed to me about your symptoms in the past instance from a chat with Sir Coulson. Is this time much different than that?"

“No,” Darcy said. “It’s the same, though perhaps a little stronger. I am not in the carriage, though, so I have not passed out from the pains.”

“And how are you feeling Mr. Reid?” Leo asked. 

“Me?” Spencer questioned.

“Are you feeling ill at all?”

“No.”

“What about you Miss?” Leo asked, turning his attention to Anna. “Feeling unwell even a little bit?”

“I have a bit of a headache,” the maid admitted.

“Is that normal?” Jemma asked. “Do you get them often?”

“No, ma’am,” Anna replied. 

Jemma looked at Leo. “It’s likely something that both of the women have come in contact, but Darcy more so than her maid.”

“Are you sure the headache is related?” Spencer asked.

“I’m not,” Jemma consceded, “but I do think it is suspicious.”

“I haven’t left the house in the past two days,” Anna said. “If I am sick for the same reason, it’s something inside the house already.”

“Have there been any deliveries? Perhaps a letter both of you have handled?” Leo asked.

“I’ve handled all the mail as well as them,” Spencer said with a frown. "I should be sick as well if it were that.”

“There’s been nothing delivered this week,” Anna said. 

“Could it be the laundry? Perhaps there is something on your sheets?” Jemma asked.

Darcy blushed furiously. “Spencer would be ill as well were that the case.”

“Of course,” Jemma said, making Darcy consider her friend a bit more. The blush on her cheeks made Darcy believe that perhaps she and Leo also preferred to not use separate rooms.

“What sort of item should we be looking for?” Darcy asked, trying to cut through the awkwardness in the room, the pain in her stomach starting to take a back seat to her desire to get to the truth.

“I’m not sure,” Jemma admitted.

“It must be something you don’t come in contact with all the time,” Spencer said. “You weren’t sick for the past several days, so it must be something you interacted with recently.”

“What have you done in the last day or so? We don’t know how long it takes the poison to take effect, but you probably encountered it no more than a day ago.”

Darcy thought back over her past day. “Last night we read in the library after dinner before coming to bed.”

“Was there anything you ate that Spencer didn’t?”

Darcy shook her head. “No, we ate the same things.”

“Did you handle the book?” Jemma asked Anna.

“No ma’am.”

Darcy frowned. “Anna helped me undress and get into my nightgown.”

“The same one you’re wearing now?”

“Yes,” Darcy said. “But Spencer also touched it, so I don’t think that’s it. I had breakfast, both of us eating the same thing, though I did have coffee instead of tea this morning.” Jemma made a soft sound. “I was missing my father. He always seemed to prefer coffee to to tea. Very strange.” Darcy turned to Anna. “Perchance did you drink some coffee this morning?”

“No ma’am.” 

“You really should try it next time we brew some. I think you might like this new blend I found. I remember you liking it when my father would share it with the staff.”

Anna smiled, but did not say anything to this.

“What did you do after breakfast?”

“I called on several friends. Anna did not escort me, so I don’t believe anything from that could be related.”

“When did you get home?” Leo asked.

“I got home maybe four hours ago? Maybe a bit less?”

“I had a bath drawn because Mr. and Mrs. Reid are supposed to be attending a dinner tonight and she felt a bit dirty from the visits this morning.”

“Did you use anything new, or, at least newer?” Jemma asked.

Anna looked up suddenly. “The soap,” she said. “Nothing else has changed in Mrs. Darcy’s habits except the new soup Mr. Reid got her.”

“What new soap I got her?” Spencer asked, surprised.

“The soap you had delivered the day Miss Jane left, sir. It was delivered late that morning. It was tied up brown paper with a bit of ribbon I thought you had tied because it wasn’t done how a lady’d do it.”

Spencer was very still. “I didn’t send any soap around, and if I had, I certainly wouldn’t have had it delivered.”

“It’s the only thing new that both of us would have had contact with,” Darcy said. “And me more than Anna.”

Everyone looked at each other for a minute. “Anna,” Darcy finally said, “get my oldest pair of thick gloves and get the soap for us. Do not touch it to your skin.”

Anna stood immediately, going to the dresser to pull out the gloves before opening another drawer to retrieve the soap. “Where should I put it?” she asked, staring at the bar as though it were a dangerous creature.

Spencer pulled out his handkerchief and laid it on the bed. “Put it here,” he said. “Do you have a knife and another empty vial?” he asked Jemma.

“Of course,” she said, immediately going back into her bag, pulling out the items. “I don’t have any gloves, though.”

“Use the ones Anna has on,” Darcy said as her maid carefully peeled them off and gingerly offered them to Jemma who made quick work of donning them and collecting a sample.

“We’re going to go home and analyze this,” Jemma said, standing. “While I am certain you wish to toss it, please hold onto the bar in case we need to do more testing. Keep it somewhere safe and secure. If this is the cause of the illness, we don’t want anyone else to get sick.” Jemma reached into her bag and pulled out another vial with liquid in it. “In the meantime, all I have to offer you is some pain relief. I’ll be able to do more once I know what we’re working with.” She handed the bottle to Spencer before coming over to gently hug Darcy. “We need to catch up once this dreadful incident is behind us. I’m certain we have much to share.”

“Of course,” Darcy said, the pain making itself known again. “I am very interested to hear about the end of your studies and your trip,” Darcy said. She had missed Jemma. While they were not as close as she was with Jane, Jemma had been a constant in her life. Betrothed to Leo since practically birth, they had grown up in each other’s pockets. It was pure luck the two had turned out to truly adore each other. They had been the best of friends since they were small, and Darcy and Jane were just more people in their sphere. She was pleased to see her friend so happy. She wondered what her season might have been like if the Fitzsimmons had been in town.

Jemma and Leo made their goodbyes and were gone in an instant. Spencer ordered Anna to take the rest of the day off so she could feel better. He made up a glass of the medication Jemma had left, and then set about dealing with securing the poisonous soap while Darcy drifted off to a fitful sleep.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer gets some answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's a day late and a little short, but it really felt like the right place to end the chapter, no matter how much i tried and waited to see if I could figure out places to make it longer. I hope you still enjoy it!

Spencer gave one more glance at Darcy before closing her bedroom door. He had alerted his valet to what was happening, and now the man was keeping guard over his wife while he went out to find answers. He hadn’t wanted to leave her, but he knew that he had to because he had resources that could solve this problem; that deserved a chance to figure this out. He bundled up the soap, looking at the item with disgust and took off down the stairs to his carriage. 

The ride to Dr. Banner’s house was short, but it felt like the minutes were passing through molasses. He was certain he’d never get there, but eventually they did arrive, and his watch told him it had been less than ten total minutes. He slipped the contraption back in his pocket and quickly made his way up the steps. He was greeted at the door by the butler who took him to the same study where he always met Bruce. He debated just saying damn it all and running up the stairs himself, but he forced himself to be still, knowing that keeping the secrets of the house was of the utmost importance. He couldn’t be hasty now and ruin everything. The wait wasn’t long. As soon as Bruce saw his face, his mouth became a thin, grim line, and immediately turned to lead Spencer back up the stairs.

He walked into a quiet laboratory. Tony was already looking at him. Spencer threw the wrapped parcel on the table in front of him. “This is what’s making Darcy sick.” He practically spat out the words. “Don’t touch it with bare hands,” he added as Tony immediately moved to unwrap the item.

“I think you better explain to us what’s happened,” Bruce said gently as Tony grabbed a worn pair of gloves from one of the drawers.

“She got sick again. Coulson sent Dr. Fitzsimmons to look her over, and she started questioning Darcy to pinpoint what might have been making her sick. Anna— her maid, that is— figured it out. She was feeling slightly ill, but nothing like Darcy.” He could feel his walls starting to crumble as he thought about how Darcy had looked at him for a moment when she revealed where the soap had come from. It was a flicker of possible betrayal, and it made him sick to think she thought he could have done this. “Someone delivered it to the house weeks ago, saying that it was sent as a gift from me.” He pulled another package out of his pocket and tossed it on the table as well. “She saved the ribbon it was bound with.”

“Soap,” Bruce said looking at the item. “Something innocuous that could promise a lot of skin contact.”

“What were the symptoms,” Tony asked, taking a small sample of the bar and transferring it into a vial.

“Her maid had just a headache. Darcy had complained of headaches, but the real pain was like a heavy weight in her stomach, she said. Like something was in there and radiated pain with movement. That’s why she passed out in the carriage; too much movement. It makes her lose her appetite and this time she said her thoughts were a bit clouded too.” He finally sank into one of the stools at the table, though if it was to be on the same level as the others or his legs giving out, he wasn’t sure. “How can I protect her?” he asked, miserable.

Neither Bruce nor Tony said anything as they started to add liquids to the vial and watch the reaction.

“You’re keeping her safe by bringing this here,” Bruce finally said as the liquid in the vial turned blue.

“Son of a bitch,” Tony said under his breath, immediately moving toward the soap again, placing a sliver in a new vial and adding some powder and then another liquid, causing the mixture to start to bubble. “Those  _ fuckers _ ,” he said roughly pushing away from the table and grabbing an empty beaker that he rapidly threw against the wall. It shattered into a million pieces, sending a spray of glass everywhere. The silence after the crash was loud. 

Spencer waited, holding is breath, afraid that making any noise would set the man off again. Finally Tony began to sob.

“I made that,” he said. “This is  _ my _ fault.”

Spencer looked at Bruce who looked pale and stricken. “Tony, tell me that’s not…”

“It’s not,” Tony said. “Well, not exactly.” He sighed and looked suddenly very old and worn down. “They’ve done something to it. It’s weaker than the original, and they did something to bind it to the soap, but it’s essentially my compound.”

Bruce looked a bit green at the thought.

“What is it?” Spencer asked. “How do we help her?”

“I’ll need to do more tests to see exactly what it is they did to it, but it’s a form of arsenic poisoning. I developed it when I thought I was working on the right side as something to use to hurt the enemy. Warfare through chemistry and all that.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I never asked exactly what they wanted it for, and after I finished the initial compound, I came home and looked at my daughter and suddenly wondered about the families that would go home and find their loved ones permanently ill because of what I did.” He sat down, heavily on the stool he had previously been on. “The next day I said I didn’t want to make things that hurt people anymore. I wanted to be on the other side, making things to help people.” He started to tense up again and Spencer could feel the anger starting to roll off the man. “That’s when I found out the truth about who I am. Was. am.” He struggled over the words. “They tried to use my family against me.”

“Darcy?” Spencer ask, his voice rough.

Tony shook his head. “My father.” The word hung in the air for a moment, and Spencer waited for him to go on. “My father was not, as I was lead to believe, Mr. Samuel Lewis, but, rather, Mr. Howard Stark.”

The name hit Spencer. “As in…?”

Tony gave an affirmative nod. “As in owns half of London and is owed favors by the other half.”

There were a million questions Spencer wanted to ask, but he wasn’t sure where to start or even that he should. 

Bruce took up the story. “Howard didn’t want to be a father.He thought it would take away from his work and, well, and Tony was out of wedlock. He bribed Sam Lewis to marry the poor woman and had nothing to do with him after.”

“My mom was a saint who died when I was just 15,” Tony said, picking back up. “I don’t know how a woman like her got caught up with Howard to begin with. When she died, old Sam Lewis became more bitter about me. Apparently dear old dad had stopped paying for our cushy lifestyle and Lewis blamed me. And that’s when Stane found me and offered me a job.” Tony was looking through Spencer like he wasn’t there anymore, and he wondered if the man was caught up in a memory. “Anyway, when I said I wasn’t going to do it anymore, they brought in my real father and told me the truth, thinking that I’d be willing to keep going in order to have the legitimacy of the Stark name. They promised Howard would claim me as his right and true heir if I just played by their rules.” Tony paused for a moment. “Obviously I refused.”

Spencer didn’t know what to say to this story. To be manipulated by his true father and despised by his supposed father was too much. No wonder he wanted to be just Tony.

“When you come back, what name will you have?” Spencer asked. 

“I don’t know,” Tony admitted. “I don’t need to be a Lewis for Darcy anymore, and I don’t want to be a Lewis  _ or _ a Stark.” He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “But that’s not the concern for today. Today we need to figure out what the hell they did to the compound and make an antidote to save my daughter.” There was determination in his eyes.

“I’m not a chemist,” Spencer said, “but I’m willing to learn.”

“Good boy,” Tony said, pulling several items off the shelf.

Several hours later, Spencer sent his driver back to the house with a message for his valet asking after Darcy, and begging the man to tell her he would hopefully be home soon with something to make her feel better.

They had isolated the compound, and now it was a matter of figuring out how to neutralize it in a way that wouldn’t further hurt Darcy. Spencer had been fascinated by the entire process, and both Bruce and Tony had promised to teach him more once the circumstances weren’t so dire. In the meantime, he made sure to measure items and grab supplies as directed, doing whatever he could to help the men. His driver came back with a short reply from his valet, and, surprisingly, a note from Darcy as well, telling him she wasn’t feeling quite so terrible and to take his time. She stressed that his valet had been very cordial and had done an excellent job checking everything and everyone that came into her room. He smiled at the short note and then got right back to work.

It was nearing suppertime when they finally had the antidote done. It was a powder to be mixed in with her tea and drunk. They thought one dose would do it, but it really depended on how much of the compound had been absorbed by her body.

Spencer carefully stowed the vial containing the powder in his pocket. “I have a one more request before I leave,” he said, measuring out his words carefully. 

“You want more from us after all that?” Bruce asked in a weak attempt at a joke.

“I want to bring Darcy here tomorrow if she is better.” He noticed both men stiffen. “She deserves to know.” He didn’t add that he feared he wouldn’t be able to keep the secret any longer. He worried that he might cave under her questions about who he had worked with for the cure.

Tony turned hopeful eyes on Bruce who clearly was considering this request. “It has to be here,” he said finally. “And you can’t tell her beforehand who she’s going to see. We can’t even think about Tony being alive outside these walls. We’re too close to done to ruin it now.”

Spencer nodded his agreement. “I promise.”

“Bring her by for tea,” Tony said. “She used to love making me stop working to have tea with me.” There was a small smile on his face that made Spencer wish he could whisk Darcy over right now to see her father.

“I can do that,” he agreed, taking his leave of the men.

When he got home, the house was quiet. He stopped in the kitchen to order tea sent up, and then made his way back up to first his room. He was dirty from the work they had done, and wanted to be at least presentable when he went to see Darcy. He made quick work of his clothes, no bothering to rouse his valet from his watch over Darcy, and soon he was striding into her room.

To one side, his valet and Darcy’s maid were talking in quiet whispers, and Spencer observed them for a moment. Anna’s cheeks were pink, but she didn’t appear ill. The sudden realization that his valet was paying attentions to the maid made him smile. He stepped back through the connecting door, and this time made a bit more noise so as to alert them that he was entering.

This time Mr. Johns was standing, but his cheeks were a tiny bit pink as well Spencer nodded to the man and looked at Darcy. “How is she?”

“She’s been sleeping on and off. We gave her another dose of what Dr. Fitzsimmons left after she wrote her response to you.”

Spencer turned his attention to the maid. “And you, Anna? How are you feeling? Didn’t I give you the day off to recover?”

Anna looked at him, slightly defiant. “My headache is gone, and I won’t leave Mrs. Reid alone just because I am a little under the weather. Someone did this to her under my nose and I can’t let that happen again.”

“I am not questioning your loyalty to my wife,” Spencer said gently. “I know she would want you fully better before you were waiting on her is all.” Anna gave a short nod of acknowledgement, and the fire in her eyes calmed a bit. “As it is, I have something for both of you.” He pulled the vials out of his pocket. “I spent today helping figure out what it was and making a cure.”

Both the maid and valet studied the small vials in his hand. “What is it, sir?” Mr. Johns asked.

“It’s a powder compound to be mixed in tea and drunk. I have enough for one full dose for Darcy and a half dose for Anna. Only a half because she wasn’t as ill,  _ not  _ because we don’t care about her,” he said, tacking on the last bit as he saw his valet start to bristle a bit at the half dose mention. “It should only take the one dose, but I can get more if needed.

Just then there was a knock at the door and the valet went to answer it. Instead of letting the maid in, he took the items from her and shut the door once more, laying out the tea items himself.

While Anna helped prepare the tea, Spencer went to Darcy, softly brushing the hair from her forehead and kissing her temple. “Wake up, love,” he said softly.

Darcy mumbled something, but did not wake up.

Spencer chuckled a bit. “I know, darling, but it’s time for tea.”

Darcy grumbled, but her eyes opened, and she yawned a bit. “You’re back,” she said softly.

“I’m back,” he agreed, kissing her forehead before helping her sit up. “And I brought relief.” He held the vial between his thumb and forefinger so she could get a look at it.

“What is it?” she asked, taking it from him. “Where did it come from?”

“It’s an antidote to the poison you were given. Bruce helped create it. I went to him today seeking help.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but it would do for now.

“Do I lick it?” she asked, studying the powder.

Spencer laughed. “No. We mix it in your tea. I have some for Anna too.”

Darcy looked over his shoulder at Anna. “Why aren’t you resting?”

“I came up to have some special tea with you, ma’am,” Anna said. Spencer could feel the amusement on his face at her half truth, but said nothing.

“Then let’s have some tea,” Darcy said. 

Spencer took the vial from her and walked over to the waiting teacups. He handed Anna her vial, and she watched as he tipped the contents of his vial into a teacup and stirred it until the water had a bit of a sheen to it, showing that the powder had been fully dissolved. Anna followed, mixing in her own powder once she saw him do it. He took the teacup and handed it to Darcy. “I’m sorry. I have no idea how it tastes. You need to drink it all, though.”

Both women nodded and then sipped their tea. Darcy made a bit of a face, but took another sip.

“Is it bad?” Spencer asked, worried.

“Not bad, just odd,” Darcy said.

“It sort of tastes like someone dropped a chocolate into the tea,” Anna said.

Darcy nodded. “It’s a taste that might be fine otherwise, but it certainly out of place in tea.”

Spencer smiled, relieved. “We should tell Bruce that tomorrow. Not that I anticipate either of you ‘needing more.”

“Tell Bruce tomorrow?” Darcy asked. “Is he coming here?”

“He invited us therefor tea, but only if you’re feeling up to it.”

Darcy took another sip. “If this makes me feel better, I’ll gladly walk the entire way there in my nightgown to thank him.”

“I’m sure he’ll settle for just tea,” Spencer said, leaning down to whisper, “And you in your nightgown is just for me.”

Darcy blushed. 

Spencer watched his wife and her maid sip their tea and wondered about tomorrow. He hoped that keeping her father from her wouldn’t cause problems. He hoped that the happiness at seeing him alive would be enough.

He also hoped that they had been able to figure something out with that ribbon. Someone had tried to hurt his wife, and he wasn’t going to let that go so easily.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day of surprises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a hot minute since I last updated. Things have been very busy and stressful as I barrel toward finishing up grad school. But my internship is winding toward the end, just like this story. Should be just two more chapters after this.

Darcy felt much better the morning after she had drunk the antidote tea. Her head was no longer foggy, and her stomach only held a dull sort of ache as though she had used the muscles a lot the previous day. It was surprising how much better she felt, and she marveled at the fact that just a little bit of powder in her tea could make her feel better. It made her miss her father. He would have been delighted at such a fancy bit of chemistry. She rolled over to look at Spencer, still asleep next to her. His face was relaxed and she felt a blossom of warmth toward him as she thought about how much he loved her. He had trusted Mr. Johns to see to her safety yesterday so he could hunt down a cure she was positive had been created that same day. He had been nothing but sweet and tender and present the entire time they had been married, and she once again considered how lucky she was to have met him all those nights ago in the gardens. She leaned over and kissed his cheek, and he stirred a bit in his sleep.

“Darcy?” he asked, his voice still half caught in a dream.

“We don’t have to be awake just yet,” she whispered.

The arm that had been laying across her now pulled her closer as he nuzzled the crook of her neck. “You’re awake. I should be too,” he mumbled into her skin.

She was certain that all his worrying had exhausted him. “I’m not awake,” she countered, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice.

“Are too.”

“You’re dreaming,” she soothed.

“Not a dream. You’re too good to be a dream. Must be real.” His words were slow and still sleep drenched, but the sentiment hit all the same. Perhaps more so because he didn’t seem to be thinking about his words, but they were rather pouring out.

“You, Spencer Reid, are my dream.”

“No, I’m your husband.” His words were tangled in her hair, but she couldn’t help but laugh at them. He yawned a bit and opened his eyes. “Good morning,” he said, blinking a bit.

“You should get more rest,” Darcy said.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, ignoring her comment.

“Better,” she said. “Though there’s still a bit of pain, it’s more like a reminder than anything.”

He pulled her flush against him and kissed along her jaw. “We can get another dose today when we visit Bruce. Just to be safe.” 

Darcy ran her fingers through his hair and let out a happy sigh. Spencer finished his kissing down her jaw and gave her a soft, chase kiss on the lips before sitting up.

“What shall we do today?” he asked. “Are you feeling well enough to visit Bruce?”

“I am certainly well enough to visit him, but I perhaps should not over tax myself before then. Just to be safe.”

She had been feeling a little cooped up recently, but she wasn’t going to ruin her seemingly better health by being overly ambitious right away.

“Maybe you would like to stroll in the garden? We could read together and have a picnic. It looks to be a lovely day.”

“That sounds perfect,” she said, kissing his cheek before turning to ring for Anna. 

Spencer followed her lead, getting out of the bed to head back to his room. A few moments later, Anna was at her side, promising that she felt much better at Darcy’s gentle questioning of her health.

Breakfast was quiet, but before they could head out to the garden, the butler arrived with the post. Spencer insisted they head to his study to look over the items before their garden stroll. The letters were placed on his blotter, and he pulled out a letter opener as well as some gloves. At her upturned eyebrow he said, “I’d rather we still be safe until we know who is behind all this.”

She had to admit that was a good plan, so she waited quietly as he slipped on the gloves and went to the first letter. Most of them were simple invitations, but at the bottom of the pile, Spencer paused slightly after he opened the letter.

“What is it?” Darcy asked, leaning forward.

Spencer planced the letter flat on the desk and turned it toward her so she could read it. She cautiously leaned even closer, remembering not to touch the letter, though it was hard when she recognized the handwriting. It was from her mother.

“She’s getting married?” Darcy asked more because she needed to say the words than she thought anyone would have an answer.

“Apparently,” Spencer said. She could feel him watching her, waiting for her to react.

Darcy leaned back in the chair, her eyes still on the stationary, her mother’s looping hand blurring as she became unfocused. “She  _ is _ out of mourning,” she started. “And Sir Pierce has been in our lives a long time. I suppose this is not wholly unexpected.” She was oddly numb at the thought.

“Do you want to go?” he asked her gently.

She sat for a moment. “It would be a scandal if I didn’t,” she said with a sigh. 

“We can weather a scandal,” he said, but she was already shaking her head.

“No, we’ll go. I just don’t want to respond right away.” She stood and moved to look at the bookshelves, more to get out nervous energy than to find anything.

“We can respond whenever you wish.” She could hear him putting aside the letters and invitations that would need responses and disposing of the rest. She wandered back over to the desk, pulling out her pen and some stationary to begin responses.

They worked quietly for the next hour, though her mind was hardly as quiet as the room. She kept wondering about her mother. She knew that she needed to marry again because there hadn’t been much left after her father’s death. Besides, marriage was safer for her. But there was still something about this that bothered her. Maybe it was the feeling that her mother had always had a preference for Pierce, even when she was married. Maybe it was the discomfort that always washed over her when she saw him watching her. Whatever it was, she couldn’t decide how she felt about her mother’s impending nuptials, and it bothered her. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she initially missed Spencer’s gentle call to her to see if she was ready to walk in the garden. She tried to push thoughts of her mother out of her head, but even as she listened to Spencer read poetry to her under her favorite tree, she still couldn’t totally let go of her tumbling thoughts. 

When it was time to visit Bruce, Spencer had caught on to her distraction and gently asked if she was feeling well; if she still wanted to go. That was enough for her to finally shake off her thoughts and return to the present. She reassured him that she was well, and they set off for her not quite an uncle’s house.

As the carriage made its way down the street, Darcy could feel the anxiety rolling off her husband in waves. “What’s wrong?” she asked, reaching out to grab his hand in hers.

“Nothing,” he said a little too quickly to be true. She fixed him with a look that she hoped conveyed that she was not spun glass and also could see through his bullshit. “I’m just worried about how the visit is going to go,” he said. 

“Why?” she asked, unable to think of a single reason he’d be worried about seeing Bruce.

“You were still so ill yesterday…,” he said, drifting off. She felt like maybe it was more than that, but that was certainly his main concern. 

“And today I’m not,” she said, trying to cheer him up. “Getting out of the house will do me some good. I’ve been going a bit mad stuck inside, so truly this will help me feel better.” He smiled at her and she thought that she had put him at ease.

Once they got to Bruce’s they were shown into his study where they were only waiting a moment before he joined them. He too looked tense but also almost giddy. 

“Darcy,” he said as he pulled her into a hug, “I’m so glad to see you well.” He pulled back but kept his hands on her shoulders, taking a moment to look at her. “You  _ are _ well, aren’t you?”

“I am. And I believe I have you to thank for that…,” she said, phrasing it as a question.

“Partially,” he said, shooting Spencer a look. “Perhaps we should go upstairs and discuss this.”

Darcy instantly perked up. “To your lab?” she asked. She hadn’t been given the chance to see his lab since her father was alive. She missed being in a lab space and just watching him work. She missed watching her father work the most, but Bruce was an acceptable substitute. 

“Yes, my lab,” he said gently, dropping his hands from her shoulders and moving toward the door. “Shall we?”

They followed Bruce up the stairs and to the door where he stopped. “Darcy,” Bruce said, not opening the door. “You know I love you like my own daughter, right?’

“Of course,” she said, confused by this line of questioning. 

“And you know I’d never hurt you if I could help it?”

“Bruce…,” she said, trying to determine what was happening. “Why these questions?”

Instead of answering, Bruce opened the door and looked at her expectantly as he stood at the door and she walked in.

“Hi princess,” a voice inside the room called tentatively. 

Darcy had been looking at Bruce as she walked in, but now her eyes snapped into the room. Sitting at the lab table was her father.

“Dad?” she asked, her voice a hoarse whisper. She didn’t want to take her eyes off him, but she also wanted confirmation from someone else that she wasn’t hallucinating. She vaguely heard the door click shut behind her. She felt Spencer’s hand on the small of her back, his thumb running small, reassuring circles.

“Hello darling,” her father said, his own voice rough with emotion. She was afraid to move and break this wonderful dream.

Finally he stood up and took a step toward her, and it was like her feet came unstuck and she flung herself at him, her arms going tightly around his neck as she hugged him as close as possible. His own hands were wrapped just as tight around her waist as he cried into her hair.

“I’ve missed you,” they each were saying over and over again through their tears. She didn’t know how long she hugged him, but when she finally pulled back, she noticed they were alone in the room. She pulled a handkerchief from her bag and dabbed at her eyes, laughing as her father did the same. 

“I think your husband and uncle have given us some privacy to catch up,” he finally said.

“How long have they known?” she wondered, Bruce’s questions now making much more sense.

“Bruce has always known. He helped me stage everything,” her father said as he led her back to the lab tables and offered her a seat. “Spencer found out only recently. After yesterday, he was insistent that he be allowed to bring you here so you could know. He didn’t like keeping this secret.”

Darcy looked over at the closed door as though she could still sense him on the other side. “He’s a good man.”

“I think he might be, princess.”

Darcy turned back to her father and smiled. “Do you like him?” she asked, worried that she had disappointed her father in her choice.

“It’s a bit late for me to stop you from marrying him,” he said seriously. Her smile tensed a bit. Was it possible he thought she had made a poor choice? “But I would not have even if it were an option,” he continued. “Your husband is a sweet man who seems to dote on you. What more could I want for you?”

She felt herself relax. “I was worried when we first became engaged that I had moved from one miserable choice to another, but I seem to have been very lucky that Spencer was in that garden.”

Her father looked at her for a long moment, assessing her. “You love him,” he finally said.

“I do.”

“Then I could want for nothing more for you,” he said with such care that she knew she need not worry.

“Now, I want to know everything,” she said, eager to hear how she came to still have her father after all these years, “but first I must know if you made my antidote. The first thing I thought of after taking it was how much you would appreciate the science behind it.”

He laughed and the world shifted, making her think that maybe everything would truly be okay.

***

Later that afternoon she was sitting next to Spencer reading when the butler entered.

“This just arrived,” he said, holding out a letter.

“Place it on the desk please?” Spencer said as he went to grab his gloves so they could see what had come so late in the day.

They both moved to the desk and Spencer easily opened the envelope, sliding out several sheets of paper that he immediately slid across the blotter to Darcy. “It’s from Jane,” he said with a smile.

Darcy eagerly took the missive and devoured news of Jane’s trip, meeting Thor’s extended family, and the final preparations for her wedding. She was so delighted with everything Jane had to say that it was like a basin of cold water turned over her head when she got to the end of the letter and read the postscript.

_ I just thought of this, and it seemed important, so I’m adding it now in hopes it doesn’t seem as out of place as I worry it will. Remember that soap Spencer sent you the last day I was with you? The ribbon it was tied with has been bugging me incessantly, and I finally figured out why. I’m certain it’s the same ribbon I helped Ian pick out several months ago when he was thinking about renewing his suit with you. I didn’t want to encourage him, but he made it hard for me to say no. Does this seem odd to you? I had purposefully pushed him toward a ribbon I knew you wouldn’t like and would be unlikely to actually wear. It seems strange, no, that your husband would not only pick a ribbon so poorly, but pick one that I had helped a different man select for you? What could it mean? _

Darcy stared at the words. What could it mean? I meant she knew who had sent her the poisoned soap. Spencer must have sensed the change in her demeanor because he looked up at her as the letter fell from between her fingers.

“Darcy?” he asked cautiously.

“It was Ian,” she said, her eyes unfocused on the desk between them. “He sent the soap.”

“Did Jane say that?” he asked.

Darcy looked up and saw the concern in his eyes. “No,” she said shaking her head. “She doesn’t know that there was a problem with the soap. Or, at least, I don’t think there’s been time for her to get that letter yet. She just remembered something odd about the ribbon it was tied with. It was a ribbon she knew Ian to have purchased.” She pushed the fallen pages of the letter across the desk to him, pointing at the postscript.

Spencer studied the paper before him before ringing for the butler. When the man appeared at the door, Spencer thrust a hastily written set of notes at the man. “These need to be sent to Lords Coulson and Hotchner immediately.” The butler nodded and disappeared. “And now we wait,” he said coarsely. “We will have justice. No one harms my wife without consequence.”

Darcy felt a shiver at his words, but she had to say that this determination to see this through made her feel safe. Ian wouldnever knew what hit him.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to HKThauer for being a cheerleader! I wouldn't have gotten this done if she hadn't been yelling at me about how much potential there was for it.
> 
> **Story will update on Sundays**


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